What am I ?
by Zachiliam
Summary: Harry runs away from the magical world after the end of his fifth year. What happens when Snape finds him ? Severitus challenge not slash !abandoned!
1. Default Chapter

Author note: Hi everybody, I just wanted to say that this is 'almost' a Severitus challenge (the important part being that Severus is Harry's father), that there will be NO SLASH and that English is not my mother tongue so please, be nice! ;-). I would also like to thank Chris for betaing this for me !:-)

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_What am I ?_  
  
**Prologue**

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It was a hot summer night and everyone on Privet Drive was asleep. Everyone except a teenage boy. Harry Potter was soundlessly packing all his most treasured belongings into an old backpack. His movements were slow, and small beads of perspiration were showing on his forehead, partially covering his old infamous scar. There was a time when he had liked the scar: being constantly told that he was nothing but a worthless burden, this scar had often helped him remember that he was unique, and, in a way, special.  
  
But gradually, he had learned to loath the mark. In a dream, in an old childish dream, Harry was famous and happy. But at this very moment, he was famous and miserable. The prophecy, the end of the year... Sirius's death, they had all taken their toll. He had been depressed for weeks, had even contemplated suicide for a short while, but hadn't been able to put an end to his own pathetic life.  
  
However, he had come to a conclusion: he could not go back to the magical world. The task that lay ahead was way too big for him. He wasn't a superhero or a savior of the wizarding world, he was just a scared teen, an ignorant child who always managed to put everyone he cared for in danger. Snape was right he thought, the greasy bastard has been right all along. Harry smiled bitterly, picturing his most hated teacher's face if he ever heard Harry's thoughts (something that wasn't as unlikely as one could have imagined, said professor being a Legilimens ).  
  
Harry had decided to stay away from his friends, and from the magical world in general. However, there was no way he would stay with the Dursleys. Harry winced as a rough brought pain to his sore ribs .His Uncle was not a nice man, and Harry's body was merely reminding him of that simple fact. He was still sore from his Uncle's latest fit of rage, but he felt well enough to move around. Good thing too, because he had decided to leave this very night. The-boy-who-lived quickly checked to see whether he had packed everything he would need (a few clothes, his favorite book, a pocket knife and some muggle money), and wondered whether or not he should take his wand.  
  
He had decided not to take anything with him that had to do with the wizarding world, he wouldn't even take his invisibility cloak, nor would he keep his photo album, but his wand was another matter. Without his wand, he felt naked, exposed. Besides, it was dangerous enough to leave the house, let alone doing so without protection. Deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, Harry pocketed his wand, his last link to the wizarding word.  
  
Hedwig hooted, as if sensing that an important occurrence was coming, and ruffled her feathers in the fresh wind coming from the open window. Harry looked at her lovingly, a hint of sorrow in his green eyes.  
  
"Go to Ron's house and stay there. You are not to come back to me... ever. No matter what anyone else tells you to do, don't come back to me." He saw a glimpse of a disappointed look in Hedwig eyes, but she did as she was told and flew through the window. "It's better for both of us this way." He added in a whisper as he watched her fly away.  
  
Taking one last look at his small cramped bedroom, Harry hoisted his bag on his shoulders and jumped through the window, landing onto the roof. He slid soundlessly down the pipe, and ran off into the night.

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AN: Liked it? Hated it? Tell me, I really need to know.  
  
Review please ! 


	2. Ch 1: It's so nice to see you again

Disclaimer: I realized I hadn't put one in the prologue so here it is: I own nothing, except for the invisible plot, happy ?  
  
AN: To my reviewers: thank you thank you thank you thank you ! I'm so happy, I had no idea reviews have such an effect! ;-). As always, if you find mistakes in the text, please, e-mail me (or put it in a review) so I can fix them, (and improve my English ;-) )

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_What am I ?_  
  
**Chapter 1**

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Severus was not a happy man.  
  
Severus was not having a good day.  
  
Indeed, Severus would have loved to have someone's neck to snap, maybe it would have made him feel at least slightly better. The Potter boy would be perfect for this, thought Snape, too bad he's nowhere to be found. It was true. The Order had been looking for him for the last three months and they still had no clue where the brat had run off to. Severus himself had been combing the country, looking for some hints of Potter's whereabouts, obviously without any success. He had even been forced to give up on his potions teacher job, since Dumbledore had wanted him to dedicate himself full time to his spying activities, his work for the Order, and his search of Harry. The mere thought of the joy on the students faces when they had learned he would not teach anymore still made his stomach turn. Whatever one may think about him, Snape had always enjoyed teaching. Well, maybe not teaching, but taking house-points and giving detention had always been a great stress reliever.  
  
But for once, it wasn't Harry potter that Severus was hunting. No, this time, he was only looking for a rare ingredient. And the damn ingredient was being as hard to find as Potter himself. Severus had looked thoroughly into each magic shop he could find and yet, there had been no periphiola powder. This was seriously starting to piss him off. Taking a deep breath, Snape transfigured his clothes into muggle ones and left Diagon Alley, hoping that a walk around muggle London would sooth his nerves. The magical world was being more stressful than ever, and one can only take so much pressure before exploding...  
  
Not really paying attention to where he was going, Snape turned into a thin, shabby-looking street. A group of teens were talking animatedly, and as Severus saw one of them playing with a discreet but not so harmless knife, he was glad to have put a notice-me-not charm on himself. Not that he would have had any difficulty in disposing of them with a few well- placed curses and some memory charms, but he was in no mood to deal with stupid and arrogant muggle teenagers.  
  
He was about to leave the street, when a funny feeling in his stomach made him stop dead in his tracks. Slowly, Severus turned around and took a good look at the kids. There were five of them, and all were quite ordinary, but one of the boy caught his attention. He was rather tall, almost as tall as Severus, had straight black hair that probably reached his shoulders when they were untied, a very pale skin and high cheekbones. Severus was quite certain that he had never seen the boy before, but there was something familiar about his way of moving, his position.  
  
A gush of wind ran into the street, and the stray locks that covered the boy's forehead were blown away to reveal briefly but unmistakably an old bolt-shaped scar. The teen turned his head in Severus' direction when he heard him gasp, and a look of recognition flashed into his green orbs. Just as the boy was preparing himself to flee, Severus gathered his wits and managed to throw a stupefy curse, effectively stopping the boy before he could run away from the street. He swiftly put minor memory charms on the other youths, grabbed the boy's arm and disapparated to Snape manor.  
  
They apparated outside the wards and Snape quickly put a light bonding charm on himself and the boy he assumed was Potter, so as not to let him run away. He more or less dragged the boy inside the house, into one of the living-rooms, and made him sit rather forcefully on one of the sofas.  
  
"Explain." he said. The teen looked at him, anger burning in his eyes, trying nonetheless to look innocent .  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about. I have no idea what just happened but I suggest you let me go right now! What you just did was not legal, I'm pretty sure of that.... Now let me go, you nut-case !"  
  
Severus was not amused by the boy's act, nor was he impressed with being called a nut-case by the boy he had spent the last three months trying to find. At this point, Severus Ardelus Snape was pretty pissed off.  
  
"Don't lie to me!" spat Snape, "I saw your scar and I can feel the magic flowing from you, so there is really no point in pretending to be a Muggle!"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about ?! Magic does not exist, I don't know what a bloody Muggle is and if you're talking about this scar," he said, pointing toward his forehead, "I'll let you know I got it in a fight, four years ago. I don't know what's going on with you, but you're crazy, I'm out of here."  
  
As he was rising from his seat, Severus conjured some ropes, and the boy was forced back in sitting position. The teen was glaring daggers at Severus as he growled in a low and intense voice: "This is not funny anymore. LET-ME-GO."  
  
Severus only sneered, "You've worked on your acting skills, Potter, but the fact that you didn't show any surprise when I conjured those ropes proves that you're familiar with the use of magic."  
  
"I don't have a fucking clue about what you're talking about!" he wasn't even trying to control his rage anymore, "And I prefer not to show surprise in front of an enemy! Beside, I'm too pissed off to care about which color will be the next rabbit you pull out of your hat. I WANT OUT!"  
  
"Listen Potter—"  
  
"AND STOP CALLING ME 'POTTER'!"  
  
Snape looked at the boy calculatingly. The boy really was a good actor. Severus was starting to wonder, despite everything else, if he had not been wrong about his identity. Severus mentally slapped himself. How many magical teens wearing bolt-shaped scar, green eyes and a bad temper could there be in Great Britain ? However, Severus was amazed by his ex-student: he had only one card in hand and was clearly intending to make the most of it.  
  
Switching strategies, Snape said in a sweet voice: "My mistake, I thought you were someone else. But, since it's obvious that you're not that person, who might you be?" Just as he spoke, Snape gently tried to pry into the boy's mind. He met a wall. He could have broken it, but it would have alerted the boy of his actions, so he let go. The boy was clearly protecting himself, and if this was a success to a certain extent, this was also a failure: Severus knew that the boy had something to hide, and this was a confirmation in itself.  
  
"I'm Seb. Sebastian. That's all you need to know since I don't know you."  
  
"Sebastian? No last name ?" Severus sneered, knowing that the boy would have to find one quickly if he wanted to seem at least slightly honest.  
  
"That's none of your business... And it's not 'Potter', should you ask."  
  
This little game was starting to push Snape's last nerve. He unconsciously fingered the small vial of Veritaserum he kept in his pocket as he conjured what little patience he had left in him. He didn't want to use the potion on the boy, in case he really was not Potter (however slim the chance might be).  
  
"Well," Snape finally said, "we're going to see if you're indeed telling the truth –which I strongly doubt. Finite Incantatem ." He waved his hand in front of the boy, but nothing happened. He still looked exactly the same.  
  
Shoving his conscience aside, Severus stood before the teen still secured on the sofa, and put the vial of Veritaserum out of his pocket. The teen's eyes widened, proving that he knew perfectly well what was inside the vial and what it was supposed to do. He struggled to get away from the sofa and Severus' hand, but the fight wasn't even and soon, he had gulped down the whole contents of the vial.  
  
Snape stepped aside as the boy coughed weakly and spat the few drops he had managed to keep in his mouth. He smoothly buried the guilt that was starting to rise, under his quite convenient anger.  
  
"Now, who are you?"  
  
"A boy." answered the teen , easily sidestepping the question.  
  
Severus could have smacked himself for not asking a direct question. He had to admit that the boy was smart, or at least less dumb that Severus had imagined, but no one could avoid answering a question forever when under the influence of Veritaserum.  
  
"What name was given to you at your birth?" "I'm not sure." This truly set Severus off, how could he not be sure? And, more important, why wasn't he sure? Trying not let the boy's cryptic answers get to him, Severus gritted his teeth and reformulated his question.  
  
"What was the name your Hogwarts teachers used when addressing you?" This question had the added bonus of mentioning Hogwarts, this way, Severus would know whether this was Harry Potter, and if he was not, Severus would at least know whether the boy knew about Hogwarts. After all, he had not lied, he could sense the magic flowing from the boy.  
  
The boy was not answering. He was sweating and struggling weakly against his bonds. Severus felt almost sorry for him (almost), given that he had been put numerous times under Veritaserum and knew that it wasn't a pretty feeling. It made your mind divide, one half telling you to answer, the other part resisting. It was rather similar to the Imperius curse, one of the reason he could not understand why this potion was considered as 'light'. What's more, there were some nasty , though harmless, after effects, like nausea and it sometimes made the nose bleed.  
  
The boy's lips were sealed, quivering slightly as the potion was trying to force the words out of his mouth. Finally, his lips cracked open, and a small "Potter" escape.  
  
Deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, Severus asked "what was the full name associated with this name, Mister Potter?"  
  
The boy was already drained and couldn't fight for long this time.  
  
"Harry James Potter."  
  
Potter glared, knowing he had lost. He was screwed.

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AN: That's it ! This chapter is way longer than the prologue so there's probably a lot of mistakes. :-P Did you like it? Did you just hate it? Maybe you could tell me about it in a review? Please? 


	3. Ch 2: A nice conversation

AN: Hi everybody ! First of all, thanks to those who reviewed my chapters so far. Narnian Princess, alt sorato dash, Anora, Anna Taure, Leggylover03, lillinfields, Nicoletta, Kateri1, Melwasul, Not A Muggle, Cassie, Anne, Bellatrix13, tia , Rickman Fan , MerlinHalliwell, water drifter, starangel2106, Elvensorceress, RandiWeasley, Mikee, Luna699, you guys are the best, I love you !!  
  
Another thanks to those who put me on their favorites list, it warms my heart!  
  
Now, I just want you to know that I'm going to update at least once a week, maybe twice (I'll try ;-) ), and I promise that I'm not planning on leaving this story unfinished. I do have a plot (it will show up on later chapters) and I know exactly how this story is supposed to end (I'm even surprising myself). As for the length... well, it should be around 20 chapters but I can't really tell...  
  
Finally, you may not like what Severus is going to do at a point of this chapter but don't worry, it IS explained... you'll see what I mean. Enjoy ! :)

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_What Am I_  
  
**Chapter 2**

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He was screwed. He was so, so, so beautifully screwed. Damn Snape and his bloody Veritaserum. Now that Harry was vulnerable, thanks to the potion, his beloved teacher was probably going to have a wonderful time asking everything he had always needed to know in order to make Harry's life a living hell.  
  
"Why did you run away?", came the next question.  
  
Ouch. He didn't want to answer that one, it was almost worse than the first question. He didn't fancy talking about the Dursleys, let alone with someone who would use this knowledge against him as soon as the opportunity presented itself. No, there was no way he would hand Snape more weapons against him. The potion was making his throat ache from the need to talk combined with his firm desire to not reveal his secrets. He quickly thought of someway to sidestep the question. He settled for telling only part of the truth, something that Snape would buy easily without thinking there was more to it.  
  
"I left because I firmly believed I couldn't do what was asked of me, I couldn't fight an evil and insane dark wizard. And I desperately wanted to save my own life."  
  
It seemed to work. Snape's face revealed nothing but he sneered and said in a vicious voice:  
  
"Well, it's a wonder the hat put you in Gryffindor, but then, I never thought you had that legendary bravery everyone talks about. Just a nice amount of sheer stupidity."  
  
Harry shrugged, although he was more affected by what Snape had said than he was letting on. After having run away, Harry had often thought about how he had abandoned everyone, and had wondered to what extent his cowardice would affect his friends' futures. With the guilt had come the self-hatred, a hate he had shaken off by reconstructing another persona, under the name of Sebastian. Sebastian was a normal boy, with normal friends and normal responsibilities. When Harry had told Snape that his name was Sebastian, he had meant it, but hearing Snape talk about Gryffindor and courage made the guilt and self-loathing come back full force. You tried to save your own life, you did the intelligent thing to do said a little voice inside Harry's head. The voice strangely sounded like a hiss, and Harry had got used to calling it his 'Slytherin voice'. This particular thought gave Harry an idea.  
  
"You know" he said lightly, "the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." For once, telling the truth wasn't so unpleasant, judging by the way Snape's skin had suddenly taken a much lighter shade. Harry let the news sink in, before adding, "But I declined the offer. The few persons I had met from this house had seemed pretty unpleasant." The potion allowed him to say that only because it was true: he had met Draco Malfoy in the train on the trip to Hogwarts, and hadn't been impressed by his behavior. But Harry looked pointedly at Snape when he said that, knowing that the older wizard would take the insult personally.  
  
Snape bared his teeth, but Harry wasn't finished. He really wanted to be the one throwing insults for once, and there wasn't any point to lose, nor any detention to be given.  
  
"And you know what? I'm glad I refused, because the only thought of spending my day with unfeeling bastards such as you, sir, makes my stomach rise and my head howl in pain. You make me sick."  
  
Harry wanted to smirk but he didn't have the time. He didn't see Snape move, he didn't catch his hand rising, he only felt the blow on his face.  
  
Severus Snape was fuming. How dare the unrespectful brat insult him in his own house, when Severus had spent months looking for him against his will.  
  
One look at the boy in front of him, and three very different feelings fought their ways inside him. One of them was relief. He had wanted to throttle both Potters so many times before that his latest action felt strangely satisfying. The second one was worry. The headmaster would have his head on a platter if he ever learned about this...er, incident.  
  
The third one, the strongest one, was horror. He had hit the boy. A wave of disgust over-flowed him and nausea rose when he caught the full implications of his actions: he was becoming his father. No, this was a nightmare, he would never act like his father. But the fact was that he had backhanded a child, what's more a child tied up on his sofa with no way of defending himself. Sure, the boy had insulted him, but this was still no reason to act so harshly.  
  
Potter was not moving, he was eyeing Snape cautiously, bracing himself for what was to come. He was not crying, not shouting insults nor trying frantically to escape, he was just waiting. There was no fear in his green orbs, just resignation and disappointment, as if knowing that pain would come and that there was nothing he could do about it. His lower lip was bleeding, which only hardened his new features even more.  
  
Snape wondered what was the source of such an unexpected reaction, but he pushed the thought away. It reminded him of his life too much, and there was no way the Potter-boy could have had a life even remotely similar to his own.  
  
Severus was vaguely aware that his actions were a consequence of the energy loss he had experienced the whole week. He had mastered his emotions long ago and would never have hit the boy, had he been in his normal state of mind. But it was never good to last on potions rather than food, and Severus now realized he had pushed himself too far. His hands were shaking. He had thought it was from anger, but it was more likely to be from the prolonged use of the Awerumy Potion.  
  
A long sigh escaped Severus' lips. Might as well apologize, or at least try to.  
  
"I shouldn't have done that."  
  
The teen said nothing, maybe for fear of retaliation. Or maybe the Potter brat was just sulking. Severus attempted to establish an almost civil conversation with the boy, his way of trying to forget the previous events.  
  
"How did you manage to put such a glamoury charm on yourself, Potter, let alone one so powerful that I could not unlock it? It's pretty advanced magic."  
  
"I didn't." The answer came smoothly, he hadn't fought to keep it.  
  
"Really? I thought not." Severus could truly not imagine a fifth year achieving this fine bit of magic, but his words were also meant to spite the boy.  
  
"So how did you end up with those new looks? I can tell it's not just some natural changes, I barely recognized your over-swelled head."  
  
"I have no clue. The changes appeared rather slowly. At first I didn't notice, but when the drastic changes took place, I realized this was not a normal transformation."  
  
"How smart of you," sneered Severus.  
  
The boy took no notice and went on. "The thing is that it appeared on its own. And as you may have noticed, not only am I no longer the spitting image of my supposed father, but I don't even look the slightest bit like James Bloody Potter anymore !" The boy was fuming.  
  
"Why does it bother you so much?" Snape arched an eyebrow and smirked, "it does seem to be quite an improvement." Even if Snape's intention was only to taunt Harry, he had asked a direct question and Harry, still under the effect of the Veritaserum, couldn't prevent himself from spitting out the truth.  
  
"I'm upset because James was probably not my father, which means that I was once again lied to, that I don't even know who I am and that people I once trusted would actually keep me in the dark as long as it helps their purpose. I'm sick of that. Sick of being a tool. When I realized that I was just a piece on the board, not someone viewed as an actual human being, I was even gladder to have left the magical world."  
  
For once, Severus couldn't help to agree with the boy. He may have expressed his thoughts in a rather melodramatic way, but in the end, it had been the truth, only the truth. Severus was gladly surprised the brat had figured that much on his own without Granger whispering in his ear. He would have to talk to the headmaster on this matter. The boy could explode at any moment. They needed to get him back, and giving him his true identity would surely help gaining his trust back. Not that Severus knew who the boy's father was, but the Headmaster was bound to know.  
  
The more Severus pondered those thoughts, the more he believed the old coot had known all along. After all, the boy had been placed with Lily's family for the sake of blood protection, the blood connection could also have worked with the child's father's relatives, and Severus was quite sure that there still remained at least one living relative of the Potter family. If Potter was not really the boy's father, it seemed only logical for Dumbledore to give Harry to Lily's sister.  
  
But the question was : who the hell was the boy's father? There was no doubt that Lily was his mother, the blood magic worked with her relatives, Harry still had her eyes, and the boy's new appearance revealed that Lily had in fact passed quite a few of her features to her son. Her full lips, her elegant neck and the curve of her eyebrows were present on her son, though a little bit more masculine on the teen than they were on the beautiful woman. But whom would Lily have had a child with?  
  
Severus himself was of course out of question. What had... happened between them had taken place almost a year and half before the child's birth. So who was it ?  
  
The potion master was pulled away from those thoughts when Harry spoke.  
  
"Is there any way I can convince you to let me go and pretend you never found me ?" His tone was sarcastic but Severus heard a faint note of desperate hope in the teen's voice.  
  
"No." As tempting as it might be, Albus would never forgive him, was he to learn anything about it. Speaking of the Devil, he might as well contact him. Severus stood up swiftly, muttered a quick spell to heal the boy's lips and undid the spell which bound him to the sofa. Just as he finished with those, he placed another security charm on himself and Harry, not wanting to lose the boy when they were just about to floo to the headmaster's office.  
  
Severus threw the floo powder inside the fireplace, grabbed Harry's arm and stepped into the flames.

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	4. Ch 3: Grandpa's here !

A/N: leggylover03, Anora, Kateri1, LunaLovegood61, Melwasul, HermioneGreen, ocpawnmaster1, Kee-Kee de uth Mondar, starangel2106, Beth , jennifer , Innocent Little Birdie, maria , ann , Nicoletta, borne-shadow-childe, spygirlfive, ILOVETOWRITE456, Jarvey, HaRrYrOxMuhSoX, ossini , Dragon Hunter1, Barbara Kennedy, Ophite68, NarnianPrincess, RandiWeasley, Unseen Watcher , Amber16, water drifter, (I hope I didn't forget anyone) thank you soooo much for the lovely reviews you sent , it gives me the motivation to write, even if I'm dead tired ! You're the best !  
  
I'm flying without a beta here so... forgive me, and more importantly, don't kill me. ;-)  
  
Enjoy !

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_What am I_  
  
**Chapter 3**

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Harry Potter was feeling ill at ease, sitting beside his most hated professor, while a piercing blue gaze was boring into his mind. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry was calm and collected. Or so it would seem to any 'normal' observant. However, Harry had known Dumbledore for quite a while, and was able to tell from the tension in the old man's hands that he was truly furious. And Harry also knew that this anger was directed toward him, even though the Headmaster was trying as hard as is humanly possible to keep his rage suppressed.  
  
"Harry, it's good to see you again. Lemon drops?" He was smiling benevolently, nothing in his voice betraying his true emotions. Harry slowly shook his head, unsure of how to react. Snape was very, very silent. In fact, he was so still that Harry could have believed the potion master was actually part of the chair. As for the tension, well, let's say it was made of concrete.  
  
"Is there something you would like to say or ask, Harry ? Anything at all. I realize you did not appreciate being kept in the dark the previous years. Was that why you ran away?"  
  
Harry snorted. That and a million of other things! If the old coot believed that Harry would burst into tears and start calling him 'Grandpa', he was very much mistaken. Dumbledore seemed to be waiting for more than a snort, but Harry kept his lips firmly sealed. 'The veritaserum must have worn off', he thought. The headmaster exhaled a sigh of frustration when suddenly, Harry spoke.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do have a question." Harry stopped himself from adding 'Headmaster' and went on, "Who's my father ? I think you owe me that much after having lied to me about my true identity for all those years."  
  
Dumbledore winced at those words but seemed strangely relieved at the same time. Trust the old coot to have other secrets, bigger than the one about Harry's true parentage. Dumbledore furrowed his brows, carefully preparing his answer.  
  
"I'm not sure Harry, but we could effectuate a paternos test, if this is what you want. I guess you gathered you were not James' son when the changes occurred?"  
  
Harry nodded curtly, though he was wondering if the Headmaster was trying to buy some time with his 'I'm not sure' or if he really didn't know. However, he noticed that Dumbledore's choice of words implied that he already had a vague idea, even though the tone of his voice clearly indicated that he was not ready to share it with Snape and Harry just yet.  
  
"I want to do that test." No 'please', no 'sir', the Headmaster didn't deserve his respect. Harry mentally cheered and patted himself on the back.  
  
"Severus?" said Dumbledore, pulling Snape out of his torpor. The potion master sent a disgusted look at Harry and gave a long deliberate sigh. "It will take some time to brew. Five days at least, a week at most."  
  
"Do it , please, Severus." The elderly man's tone was firm, probably intending to show harry that he would not delay things in the fool hope of keeping him in the dark as long as possible. Harry knew that Dumbledore needed his trust. Too bad, he would not blindly follow the man ever again.  
  
"In the meantime, we will need to arrange your living at Snapes Manor. I'm afraid you cannot stay at Hogwarts, and Snapes Manor is at least as protected as this castle."  
  
Harry impertinently shrugged . He understood that the headmaster didn't trust him, and lost in the middle of the student crowd, they would have trouble finding him, was he not to want to be found. However, Snapes Manor offered a protected environment, unfamiliar to Harry, thus giving the upper hand to the professor in any kind of situation.  
  
"I do not approve of the brat living in my family's home, and you know that, Albus. However, I suppose I don't have a choice in the matter."  
  
"Indeed Severus, you don't." Dumbledore let his eyes twinkle for good measure, obviously ignoring the low growling sound that the potion master was producing in the back of his throat. Instead of lightening the spirits, the exasperating twinkle only added to the tension, probably because both of the younger men were immune to the old man's trick. 'I must be getting old,' thought Dumbledore, irritated.  
  
Harry didn't care about living at Snapes Manor, he couldn't go back to Gryffindor's tower anyway, not with his new appearance. Nor did he want to. Too many questions would be asked, and he really didn't want to face his old friends. Not out of cowardice, mind you, but the thing was he had buried them along with the rest of his past.  
  
"This is settled then. Severus, I will teach your potion class for this week, this way you will be fully able to dedicate yourself to the paternos potion and your own researches."  
  
Severus and Harry understood they were dismissed and walked toward the fireplace, carefully leaving a security distance between the two of them as if they were afraid to catch the other's disease.  
  
"Don't kill each other!" The deceitfully cheerful voice of the Headmaster rang in their ears. Severus stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Harry did not.

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"This is your room, you're allowed to do simple spells in this house so you can change the decoration to your liking. Dinner is at eight in the main dining-room. If you want to eat, I would advise you to be punctual."  
  
Harry only nodded his head, observing his surroundings.  
  
"Should you need something truly important, call the house-elf. Don't bother me unless it's an emergency. Don't harass my house-elf. Don't harass me either, for that matter. Don't disrupt the silence of this place by doing... whatever you usually do. There will be no wandering around. Don't send any owl without asking me first. If you're bored, read a book, I'm hoping even you are capable of doing such a thing... But maybe I'm overestimating you. And last but not least, stay inside the manor."  
  
Snape left without giving the boy a chance to say anything, robes bellowing behind him ( probably out of habits ). Severus needed time to think. He sat in the comfortable armchair behind his desk and looked at the essays lying in front of him, not really seeing them. The boy had changed, and not only physically. His behavior was most intriguing. Severus had half expected the boy to throw himself in Albus' arms, crying and telling him Severus had been mean to him. But no, he had stood straight, had looked Dumbledore in the eyes and had answered only what he wished to answer.  
  
No shy smile, just a neutral expression. No compromise, but a confrontation. No truth unwillingly revealed, only carefully calculated answers. Gone were the 'sir', 'please', 'thank you', the boy's respect for Dumbledore had been replaced by respect for his own person. Gone was the kind and nice Gryffindor boy. What remained, was an angry, insolent, untrusting, untrustworthy and secret teen, with the potential of becoming someone powerful. Someone quite powerful in fact, if given the proper training.  
  
However, the boy hardly trusted anyone, and Severus didn't know whether Potter would be able to train himself alone. No, he would need a mentor, but would probably never trust anyone sufficiently to become an apprentice.  
  
Another aspect of those changes, was that Severus didn't know how to handle THIS Potter. He would have to adapt his insults, he thought, smirking slightly. But he frowned, remembering how the boy had reacted when he had back-handed him. It was not what he had expected from the usually coddled and sheltered boy. Maybe his life on the street had toughened him more than Severus had thought. Yes, this was probably the source of his new personality. He must have learned to be self-sufficient and independent, he no longer needed anyone's protection. Or so he thought.  
  
Unfortunately, as astounding as those changes might be, the boy was still insufferable, in a different kind of way. And he obviously didn't want to have anything to do with the world Severus represented. It amazed him that the supposed savior of the wizarding world had decided to live as a mere muggle. 'Maybe his incredibly large ego swelled so much that it exploded', thought Severus. Silly child. When he was told he was their savior, did he think it was all fame and no drawbacks?  
  
'Still', he thought, 'he's got some nerves, after all the magical world has done for him, leaving without sending a 'thank-you' note...' Snape was upset. Potter may not look like a Potter anymore, but he was still an ungrateful brat.

* * *

Harry stepped into the main dining-room at one to eight. Snape was already seated and paid him no attention. Feeling like a fool, standing in the middle of the room, Harry didn't wait for Snape to invite him and took a seat as far away from Snape as possible... which ended up being pretty far given that the table was at least fifteen feet long. Just as Harry sat, food appeared on his plate. Snape was still paying him no heed so he tucked in, not looking at the potion master who was absentmindedly picking at his food, all the while re-reading some notes he had obviously written earlier on some messy parchment. Harry ate slowly, detailing carefully the room. Since he was going to live there for some time, he might as well learn as much as he could about this place. The less he knew, the more vulnerable he was.  
  
Harry ate half his plate and stood up to leave, but Snape's voice stopped him dead in his tracks.  
  
"Is that all you're going to eat?" Harry turned around and nodded. "You're skinny," said Snape, "eat more."  
  
Harry was shocked to see Snape showing concern about his health, but was reassured that he had not switched realities when his teacher added, "I don't want to be blamed for your lack of survival instincts, Potter . You'd better eat unless you want me to force-feed you."  
  
Harry shrugged. "You're rather skinny yourself," he retorted. Snape rose and walked menacingly toward him until he was standing right in front of Harry.  
  
"You will NOT speak to me like this," he enounced slowly, "you will refer to me as 'sir' or 'professor', you will hold your tongue you insolent brat, and last but not least, you'll do as I tell you! NOW EAT, BOY !"  
  
Harry didn't back off when Snape took another step, leaving barely ten centimeters between them. Slowly, Harry quirked an eyebrow and asked, a smirk on his lips, "Or what, Sir? Will you beat me to a bloody pulp if I don't? Will you lock me in a cupboard without giving me any food for a whole week, Sir ?"  
  
"Don't give me ideas !" Snape's voice was a low growl, and his body started shaking ever so lightly from barely suppressed anger. Harry recognized he was walking a fine line and chose to calm things down.  
  
Slowly, he walked back to his seat, sent a meaningful look at Snape swallowed a few mouthfuls and then pushed his food randomly around his plate, pretending he was just taking his time. Snape sent him a sour look and left, his black robes bellowing dramatically behind him. Harry wondered how he could have once found this impressing. Now he found it just plain ridiculous.

* * *

A/N: So... what do you think ? Tell me please ! :-) 


	5. Ch 4: Do I know you ?

AN: Hi everybody! I wanted to update this week-end but I was sick and in no state to go on the computer. But now I'm fine!

Thanks to all my reviewers ! I write this for you (for myself too, ok, but mostly for you ;-) ), you're the best ! For those who wonder how Harry managed to run away, just assume that it was Mundugus' turn to guard Harry and that he was not really paying attention (maybe he wasn't even in the neighborhood). Harry has not tried escaping from Snapes Manor because there are protections on the Manor which prevent him from leaving ( Harry saw Snape cast them).

By the way, I won't write longer chapter, simply because I'm not able to do so right now... but I hope updating frequently will make up for it!

WARNING: This chapter is not betaed ( 'Again?', you ask . I know, I know... I'm sorry. Life can be complicated sometimes.) so, don't kill me and if it is not understandable, tell me. Thanks !

* * *

_What am I_

**Chapter 4**

* * *

A knock on the door. Harry lowered his book, slowly got off the bed and let his potion teacher in.

"The headmaster has required that I test you in occlumency. Should you not pass, we would resume our occlumency lessons."

Snape was looking as if he would rather throw himself under a bus, and although Harry felt pretty much the same, he nodded without complaining. He had made himself swear he would try not to cross the man again. After all, he only had to bear the man for a week, after that he would probably never have to face the man again ( given that he was not likely to have got an O at his potion exam ). Besides, if he managed to convince Snape and Dumbledore that he was back to his old docile self, maybe, just maybe they would lower their guards. It would be his chance to escape. Harry inwardly smirked at the idea of fooling his professors. Sometimes, it was nice to be part Slytherin, not to mention very useful.

"We'd better get this over with. Come, Potter." Harry followed the man through the corridors, suppressing his strong desire to remind the man that he was probably NOT a Potter.

They entered an almost bare room. A table in one of the corners was all the furniture. As usual, Snape didn't give the slightest warning before barking 'legilimens'.

Harry felt Snape's mind crawl into his. He visualized a wall between Snape's mind and his own, just like he had done when Snape had interrogated him. But this time, it was harder to keep in place. And then, one of the brick that was part of the wall exploded, leaving a hole in his security system. And then another. His whole wall was shaking. Harry concentrated on throwing Snape out before the situation got out of hand. He felt a rush of power, and a second later, the pressure on his mind stopped. Snape jerked slightly as he was thrown out of Harry's mind, but he quickly composed himself.

"Well", started Snape, "it was not as poor as it could have been, however it was far from acceptable."

He sneered when he saw the badly concealed disbelief on his student's face. "You didn't empty your mind, yet it shouldn't be such a difficult task for a brain as hollow as yours." Snape sent him a disdainful look but went on before Harry could try to defend himself, "You merely locked your thoughts behind a wall, thus forcing a confrontation. Once the confrontation has begun, it's only a matter of time before your wall crumbles under the pressure of your opponent's power. You can't win this way, Potter. As I've already told you countless times before, you have to actually empty your mind. But I'm sure you don't see the difference, do you, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, trying to appear unfazed by the professor's words .

"It's common knowledge that I do not have any subtlety, Sir," he retorted. Harry mentally berated himself. His plan was to act like a scared and submissive boy, NOT like an angry teen who had recently developed a 'fuck-authority' attitude. Even if this last description sounded definitely like him...

Snape briefly looked like he was going to shout but he quickly bottled his anger.

"Watch your tongue, boy. We will try again," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "Legilimens !"

Snape's attack was so strong that Harry felt like he had been punched in the guts. His wall didn't even last five seconds, and soon, his memories came back in a great torrent of pain. He was four and was being thrown in a cupboard. He was ten, eyeing enviously his cousin's plate. He was sixteen, alone and bleeding.

And then it stopped. Everything hurt, his head, his limbs and his heart. His pain, his doubts, his longing for love, for affection, they had all come back, bringing a whole lot of sorrows along.

He didn't know where he was, but the floor was cold, and it soothed his aches.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He just wanted to lie there, and rest for a long, very long time.

Harry heard footsteps and he froze, not even daring to breath. Someone was standing over him, he just knew it. It wasn't good, what if this person wanted to hurt him ? As soon as he felt a hand touching his shoulder, he rolled away and stood up, ready to defend himself if the need arose.

His eyes met two pools of black and turbulent waters, and he realized where he was.

Severus started in surprise when the boy suddenly bolted away from him. The boy had unconsciously assumed a feral stance, his eyes scanning the room, checking for any possible threat. Though Severus' face revealed nothing more than usual, he mentally frowned. The boy had been mistreated. This was not something he had expected. Judging by the confused look on the boy's face, he was probably in the process of remembering what had led to this situation, but even as the memories came back to him, the boy didn't relax and kept his protective position.

Snape regretted his earlier actions. Pushing and aggressing someone who had been abused was not a smart move, especially when you needed this person's trust. Why hadn't he realized sooner what was going on with the boy ? Slytherins were known to be skilled in the art of reading persons, of knowing their secret, their inner fears, and Snape was no exception. He always praised himself for his meticulous study of his enemies ( and of his allies), but somehow, he had not known the Potter boy. In fact, it occurred to Snape that he still didn't know anything about him. This child had been and was still an excellent actor, a skill not commonly found in Gryffindors. Or maybe Severus just hadn't cared to look closely.

Not liking to dwell on his mistakes, Severus returned his attention to the boy standing in front of him. He had regained his composure and was now looking at his feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world. Severus prepared himself for a difficult conversation. It wasn't going to be easy to convince the boy to speak with him about the abuse he received, but Severus knew he had no other choice. Judging by the force of the returning memories, he supposed Potter had been hiding them for quite a long time, maybe even from his own mind.

"Were your relatives the ones abusing you ?" asked Snape in what he thought was a kind voice, but was in fact a neutral tone. Severus mentally cringed. Somehow, he had planned on being more... subtle when asking this, it hadn't come out the right way.

"Why should you care?" came the bitter answer. The teen did not trust him and , for once, Severus couldn't blame him.

"You need to talk to someone," answered Snape calmly, not taking offense. The boy only sneered, his eyes full of barely suppressed pain. At this moment, he strongly reminded Severus of someone, someone he had known when he was young, but it was just a fleeting impression, nothing precise.

"Oh" said the boy in a hypocritical voice, "pardon me, sir, I just didn't realize I was supposed to run to someone who gets his fun from humiliating me, and talk to him about my lousy childhood."

"You need to talk to someone," repeated Snape, "otherwise you might explode, and I am the only adult available, so please Potter, stop acting like a brat." It was hard to talk some sense into this boy. Or maybe it was just hard for Severus. After all, he was a nasty potion master, a greasy git, not a nice and sensitive mother-hen, and insults came more easily to him than words of comfort.

"Explode?" asked the teen in a slightly hysterical way, "Wouldn't that be the end of your problems ? 'Famous Harry Potter died from head explosion, probably due to his lack of brain and the swelling of his ego.' It's what you would say, isn't it? It's what they would all say!"

'Yes' thought Severus, 'that's what I would say'. Not judging it safe to voice his thoughts in the present situation, Severus only barked, "Stop acting in that selfish way of yours, Potter! A lot of people care about you and they have been worried to death during your little escapade ! Your sniveling will get you nowhere. If you want to be treated as an adult, you should start acting like one !"

Harry lowered his head and his cheeks took an appropriate shade of red, not from rage but from shame. He had been an insufferable brat, and he knew it. But the shock of the memories and the pain emanating from the subject that Snape was trying to discuss were just too much, and he had instinctively raised his shields. Besides, Snape was really the last person with who he wanted to discuss his life at the Dursleys.

Deciding that the hard approach was working much better than the nice one, Severus went on, "I am your professor, you're living in my house and you are under my responsibility. Therefor you will answer my question." Snape then added in a slightly threatening voice, "unless you want to taste Veritaserum again..."

"Honestly Profesor," said Harry in a calm voice, "do what you want, I don't care." Alright, so he had gone slightly hysterical a few seconds before, and he was sorry about what he had said, but it didn't mean that he would all of a sudden share secrets he had never revealed, with Snape of all people.

Snape let out an exasperated sigh, "When you stop sulking in your dark corner Potter, you can come and talk to me." Snape stalked out of the room , and just as he turned in the corridor, he heard an angry voice yell, "I am NOT a Potter !"

* * *

Severus stepped into his lab and took a look at the paternos potion. It was still in the early stages and could not be used yet, but it would take less than two days to be ready. It had taken less time than Severus had anticipated. He realized he had worked exceptionally fast, but he had had reasons to do so. The sooner they knew who the brat's father was, the sooner Potter would leave this house.

And what a relief it would be. He wasn't qualified to deal with the boy's issues, these were much to similar to his own not to be affected by them. Besides, he wasn't exactly on good terms with the teen, thus transforming any kind of conversation into an argument. The boy's return was an absolute secret, only himself and Albus knew about it, but Potter wouldn't speak with the headmaster either, Severus was fairly certain of this.

The potion master continued turning the problem in his mind while he worked on the paternos potion, and concluded that as long as they didn't know who the boy's father was, they would find no solution to this problem. Another good reason to finish the potion as soon as possible.

Severus glanced at the clock and saw that it was pointing toward 'dinner' .

When he stepped in the dinning-room, he saw that Harry was already seated, a heavy book ( Severus recognized 'Shields and Wandless magic' ) in his lap. The boy didn't tear his eyes from the book, not even acknowledging Severus' presence, strongly reminding Severus of his own behavior .

As they were eating, the potion master broke the silence with news that he knew the teen wouldn't like.

"The headmaster sent me your schoolbooks and asked that we use the time you spend here to put you up to date on the 6th year program."

"What if I don't want to, sir ?" asked the boy, clearly not thrilled by the idea. "What if I don't want to go back to Hogwarts ?"

"That is not for you to decide, boy. You're not of age, therefore your legal guardian should decide for you."

"I see." Harry was hitting his lips lightly with his fingers, a thoughtful expression on his face. "But I'm sure my legal guardian would not want me to go back. After all, the Dursleys didn't even want me to go to Hogwarts in my first year." The teen was conversing lightly, trying to hide the fact that he was truly alarmed at the idea of returning to Hogwarts.

"I'm not talking about your pathetic excuse for relatives, Potter!" Harry noticed the way the professor grimaced from disgust when he talked about his relatives and curiously, he liked it.

"I'm talking about your magic guardian," clarified Snape.

"Oh." A pause. "And who might be my magic guardian ?"

"As long as we don't know the identity of your father, Headmaster Dumbledore is."

Harry gritted his teeth and lowered his gaze inside his plate, muttering something along the lines of "how convenient".

"Well," he said as nicely as he could, "I guess I don't have a choice then. It's not like I'm not used to being controlled and ordered around... If I may ask, sir, how is the paternos potion going?"

Severus was a lot of things, but an idiot was not part of them, and he knew a diversion when he saw one, but he chose to let it go and answered.

"It should be ready by the day after tomorrow. We will operate the test in Dumbledore's presence, this way we will be able to effectuate the necessary formalities in order to find another place for you to stay. Do not believe that I would keep you under my roof a minute more than is strictly necessary."

The boy shrugged and rolled his eyes, seemingly unaffected by the potion Master's words.

"As if I didn't already know that," he muttered under his breath.

"Now that we have fulfilled your uncanny curiosity, I suppose we may go back to the previous subject." Harry growled but Severus went on, "I suggest your read the five first chapters of each of your schoolbooks. Expect a test at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

Harry looked at his professor as if Snape had just proposed him. "Are you joking ?" the boy chuckled in incredulity.

"I assure you, Mister Potter, that I am not joking at all," said Snape in a stern voice.

"But that's impossible! Even if I read without stopping from now to three o'clock tomorrow, I wouldn't even be halfway through what you assigned me !"

"It is certainly not my fault you decided to run away. So don't whine about having to be brought quickly up to date. Now I suggest you start studying promptly. As you said yourself, time is not on your side."

Harry glared at Snape, stood up quickly and stormed out of the room. He grabbed one of the books which were waiting for him on his bed, angrily opened it, and started reading and memorizing as fast as he could. This was a challenge, and he would NOT give Snape the satisfaction of seeing him fail.

* * *

AN: That's it people! I had trouble writing this, and I don't really like it, soooooo... Is it bad ? Is it good ? Tell me , please !


	6. Ch 5 : Test and visitors

AN/ Hi everybody ! First of all, thanks to all those who are reading my story, and an extra thanks to those who actually review it ! You know I love you ;-). This chapter is rather long (for me anyway) but it was fun to write ! Once again, I didn't have the time to show it to my Beta so... I promise next chapter will be beated, OK ? By the way Narnian Princess, I might take you on this offer...

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, Enjoy! :-)

* * *

_What am I_

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Harry looked at the test Snape had just given him. There were about two hundreds questions with a place below each of them where Harry could write the answer.

The herbiology questions went fine, he had made a considerable effort in order to learn those chapters since he knew he was not really good at remembering the plants' particularities. He had also studied potions harder than his other subjects, guessing that Snape was more likely to put traps in those questions. But then again, Snape was likely to put a trap in any question, it was Snape after all. All in all, he had no trouble answering Snape's questions on potions, except for a few which, Harry was sure, were not covered in the chapters Snape had assigned.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts questions were no match for Harry's extended knowledge, but Charms were another matter given that he had read the book in a hurry just before being tested. Transfiguration was the hardest by far, but Harry had never fully understood this particularly difficult branch of magic.

While he was suffering on his parchment, Snape was grading essays, throwing him angry glares as if it were Harry's fault that students were bad at potion. 'Maybe he's just a bad teacher,' thought Harry, 'not the other way around'.

"Time's up, Potter." Harry gave up on trying to answer the last question and handed Snape his parchment.

"Sir, do you have my OWLs results ?" asked Harry in what (he hoped) was a neutral voice.

"I thought you didn't care about the magical world, why would you want your grades ?" Snape was smirking in a rather triumphant way which didn't suit him very well.

Harry shrugged, "Well, I saw I had been given a potion textbook. It intrigued me." And almost as an afterthought, he added, "Sir."

"Do believe that it surprised me as well. But I do not have your OWLs results. You can ask the Headmaster next time we see him."

'If I see him again,' thought Harry rebelliously. A plan slowly elaborated itself in his mind. An evasion. How sweet it would be to be free again ! Harry was so taken in these pleasant thoughts that he realized too late what Snape was doing. Too late, he closed his mind and rejected the potion Master out of his head.

"Well," said Snape, slightly taken aback by the power of Harry's mental defenses, "that was pathetic ! Even without using Legilimency I could see where your mind was heading, boy. If I had been the Dark Lord, I could have known in advance what you were going to do, and you would be dead !"

"How unfortunate," answered Harry, a bored expression on his face. When would the man finally understand that he didn't want to start all over again with the Voldemort's-going-to-kill-you crap ?

"You take this as a joke ?" Severus shook his head, "I wonder why Albus is so concerned by your safety, you're not worth it !"

Harry smirked. "That's not a scoop, professor, actually that's what you've been telling me for the last five years. If it can make you feel better, know that I totally agree with you. I do not know why he puts up with me and, as you might have failed to notice, I didn't ask for his protection."

"Well, Potter, we can add 'ungrateful' on top of all your other... er... 'qualities'."

"And we can add 'illogical' on top of yours, sir. With all due respect, I'd be grateful if I had anything to be grateful for !"

"Careful, Potter, we're not at school but I can sill give you detentions !"

"Go ahead, sir, give me a detention for saying the truth !"

"As you wish," snarled Snape. He grabbed Harry by his elbow, noticing but not acknowledging the slight wince the boy gave when Severus touched him, and led him toward one of his storerooms.

The room was large, messy and full of potion ingredients from top to bottom, which were lying seemingly randomly on the various shelves. Harry knew at once what Snape wanted him to do. Harry mentally shook his head. He had escaped from the Dursleys home where he had been used like a slave, only to end up in Snape's home where he would be used like a slave. He didn't know which was the worst. The Dursleys home or Snape's home ? Definitely the Dursleys, he acknowledge, at least at Snape's , he had to do something to be punished, he wasn't in trouble just for breathing the air. Ok, so maybe he had crossed the line, but he had some real difficulties adjusting himself to the situation.

"Organize everything in alphabetical order, without magic. You'll eat after being done with this."

Snape sneered as he saw the boy's face. They're was no way he would have finished this detention by dinnertime, Severus knew it, but he wanted to see the boy on his knees, begging and confessing that he had been wrong and that he was just an insolent and ignorant brat. Revenge really was a sweet concept. Once in the corridor, Severus closed the door behind him and waited a few seconds, fully expecting the boy to come out and shout that it was impossible. Surprisingly, he didn't, and Severus headed toward his lab, wondering if the Potter boy had finally learned to keep his fat mouth shut.

* * *

Harry was working, and he was working hard. It didn't prevent him from swearing almost ten times per minute, though. A moment, he told himself that he would never finish before dinner, but he quickly chased those thoughts away. He had to finish before dinner. Harry suppressed a sigh when he heard the low growl of his stomach. He had skipped breakfast and lunch to study those stupid books and now, Snape was going to make him miss dinner. He may have been used to being starved, but it didn't mean that he actually liked it. Stifling a yawn, harry placed the Mandrake Powder on the shelf. This detention was rather boring, and he so wanted to sleep. Most of his night had been spent studying, and what little sleep he had got had been filled with pain and screams.

Thinking about what had started the argument, Harry suddenly remembered his evasion plan. He had noticed that Snape had put alarm charms on the house so that if Harry went outside he would know instantaneously, and Harry also knew that Snape had conjured a sort of binding spell which ensured that Harry could not be more than a certain distance from him. Just like a leash thought Harry, disgusted.

But sooner or later, Snape would be called to a Death Eater meeting. This would be Harry's chance. Snape would have to untie himself from Harry in order to attend the meeting, and even if the alarm charms went off, Snape would not be able to leave in the middle of a meeting, Voldemort would not permit it. So, Snape would know he had escaped, but wouldn't have any mean to do anything about it until he came back. This would probably give Harry enough time to reach the closer city and take the first bus to Merlin knows where.

Harry smiled, but somehow, his smile became a yawn.

* * *

Severus was satisfied. The potion would be ready by the following night. Soon, he would be free from the famous Harry Potter. Speaking of which, it was time to go and free the insufferable boy from his impossible task. It was eight o'clock, the boy hadn't shown any sign of life, and Severus knew that he had skipped lunch. The brat was skinny enough as it was, no need to prevent him from eating.

Sneer on hiss lips and a scathing remark on his tongue, Severus opened the door, only to find Harry Potter sleeping soundly on the floor of his storeroom. Severus cocked his head and studied the teen for a few seconds. He was much more tolerable when he was asleep.

Severus looked more closely and frowned. Was the boy whimpering ? He couldn't make out what he was saying but the slight tremors that shook his body were not a reassuring sight. Hoping that the boy wasn't experiencing another vision, Severus softly shook him awake, with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed. The boy gasped and scrambled to his feet, looking haggardly at his surroundings.

"Was it a vision?" asked Snape once the boy had regained part of his composure.

Slowly, Harry shook his head, not trusting his voice. Snape nodded once, not pressing the matter. He knew first hand that lousy childhood tended to come back in the form of nightmares, and most of the time, one didn't like to talk about them. Severus had decided not to confront the boy again about his life at his relatives. If the boy wanted to talk about it, he would listen, but Severus understood why the boy would not want to do so, and he totally respected that choice. It was one of the rare matter on which he could entirely identify himself to Potter.

"It's time for dinner." The boy sent a meaningful look at the room which was only half ordered. Severus sighed in frustration.

"I knew this was impossible when I gave you your detention, but I'm not going to let you starve, tempting as it might be."

Relief shone from the boy's face, even if he was obviously trying to appear indifferent. 'He really thought I was going to keep him there without food until he finished,' thought Severus as he stalked toward the dinning-room. 'Of course, you idiot, it wouldn't be the first time someone starved him.' Sometimes it was so easy to think of the boy as a spoiled and pampered child. This had been Severus' image of Potter for so long that he could not think of him as anything else. Without forgetting that the boy was quite skilled at hiding some parts of his past.

Potter seemed to inhale his food and for a moment, Severus feared the boy might forget to breath between two mouthfuls. 'Maybe he also skipped breakfast,' pondered Severus.

Just as they were finishing their dinner, an alarm rang in the manor. Snape frowned and glared at Harry, probably out of habits.

"It's not me, sir, I'm right here." Harry held up his hands in mock surrender.

"I know that, idiot boy," snarled Snape, "Death Eaters just entered the wards. Quick, come with me."

Harry hurriedly followed Snape who ran up the stairs. Harry noticed that it was the first time he was seeing his teacher run, but he was taken out of his musing when Snape opened a cupboard motioned for him to step inside.

"This cupboard is hidden from every detector spell that I know of, as soon as I close the door, I'll hide the entry. Do not come out on your own, is that understood ? Stay hidden in this cupboard until I come back."

"Just like the good old times," whispered Harry to himself. Snape didn't take the time to ponder on those words, he quickly closed the door in Harry's face and rushed back downstairs.

Harry sat on the floor and pressed his ear against the wall, hoping to catch bits of conversation.

"Mac Near, Leoldi, to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you ?" This was Snape's voice, hints of sarcasm distinguishable even from Harry's hidden place.

"Our Lord as given us a mission, and it concerns you, Snape."

"Me ?" Again with the sarcasm.

"Yes," said a new voice, "you and your loyalties."

"I see. Perhaps we should discuss this in the living room. If you please."

Harry heard footsteps, a door closing, and then nothing. He sighed and rested his head against the cool wall. He was already bored. It reminded him of the times he had spent sitting alone in his cupboard under the stairs.

His thoughts then went to his life with the others, those who accepted him for who he was, not for who they expected him to be. They were only Muggles, but it had been the first time he had felt alive. And he had loved it. Did they miss him ? Did they even wondered about his disappearance ?

He had seen Snape obliviate them, and it wouldn't be a surprise if the spell had erased every single memory they had had of him as well. The thought was truly frightening. All those people who knew him as 'Seb' had been the best friends he had ever had. Harry felt guilty when he thought about Ron and Hermione, but no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, and no matter how much he had loved and still loved them, with Ron and Hermione, he couldn't really be himself.

Coming back to the magical world was like jumping in a black hole, not knowing when he would hit the ground.

A scream shook him out of those dark thoughts. At first it was a contained scream, then it gained in intensity. Harry wanted to leave the cupboard, to see chat was happening, but he stayed firmly put. There was nothing he could do about it, except remain hidden in order to avoid adding someone else to the list of casualties.

Harry was worried. After all, he had become used to the Potions master, even if he still hated him. It was a strange feeling to fear for the life of someone you hate. Maybe it was because he knew that the professor was fighting for the Light, fighting against Voldemort. Or maybe it was because Harry had finally got used to the Potions master's unpleasant company. Whatever the cause might be, he was worried.

Harry put his ear back against the wall as he heard footsteps growing nearer and nearer. The two men were talking in low voices which made it impossible for Harry to make out what they were saying. He heard the soft click of the front door and he exhaled a sigh of relief. They were gone. However, Snape had made it clear that he was not to leave the cupboard, so he waited patiently for the man to arrive.

After five minutes of waiting, Harry got curious as well as slightly worried, and decided to take a look in the corridor. No one. Good. He went down the stairs as silently as he could and walked cautiously toward the living-room.

There, sprawled on the floor and seemingly unconscious, was the once frightening Potions master. He was not so impressing now, and he didn't seem so tall anymore. The once enigmatic and elegant black robes were just some clothes, nothing more. Taking one more step, Harry saw that Snape's eyes were open and moving (though rather slowly).

"Can I get you something sir ?" Harry was surprised to hear his own voice filled with concern for his professor.

"Two potions. First drawer of my desk. One blue, one green, labeled as P.A.C.1 and P.A.A.E.5 . No snooping around." Snape's voice was low and ragged. Harry made a mental note to add a glass of water to the list and hurried to Snape's office.

When he came back with the potions, a house-elf carrying a glass of water by his side, Snape had recovered enough strength to drag himself to the sofa. Harry handed him the potions which he drowned in one gulp. Snape shook his head to clear it, and scowled at Harry.

"I clearly remember asking you to stay in the cupboard until I came and got you out myself."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I heard them leave. Besides, I've been careful."

"Still arrogant, I see. I guess you'll never learn Potter." Snape looked like he wanted to say more but he was cut off by a dry cough. Harry handed him the glass of water which Snape didn't take. Instead, he sent a questioning look at Harry.

"It's only water for your throat," explained Harry, slightly exasperated.

Snape threw him a nasty look and accepted the glass of water, but not before adding, "Stop acting like you actually care, Potter, I won't give points to Gryffindor !"

A bewildered look flashed upon the boy's face. Anger was what came next, but it was quickly replaced by resignation.

"If you're quite done insulting me, sir, I'll go to bed. Goodnight Professor."

The door clicked shut and Snape stayed alone in the living-room. 'Right,' thought Snape, 'so maybe, just maybe, that might have been uncalled for.'

* * *

AN/ Soooooooo what do you think ? Review please ! ;-)


	7. Ch 6 : Cute little snake

AN: Hey everybody ! I'm really sorry for the delay, I've been away with no access to a computer ( I suffered, a lot). As always, many thanks to those who reviewed and forced me to update , you're great !

By the way, I know I screwed up a tiny little bit with the POVs in this chapter but, er... forgive me ?

For those who think this story is too slow, you might be glad to hear that next chapter will be the Paternos Potion ! And it should be up pretty soon ;-)

I probably have more things to say but I forgot, so....

Enjoy ! (finally...)

* * *

_What Am I_

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"Take back your ridiculous excuse for an essay, Potter." Snape was holding Harry's – now covered in red – essay between his thumb and his forefinger, careful to keep a reasonable distance between the probably disease infected paper and himself. Harry numbly took the oh so nicely offered paper, all the while studying carefully his professor's face. Snape was looking as threatening as ever, and even though his hunched shoulders revealed that he was still in pain from the previous day's event, he acted as if nothing had happened at all. If anything, he looked even more vicious than before, probably a result of his shame at being caught in a weakened state.

"I've given you an A because most of the subjects were average. However, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts were truly poor."

Severus saw with a flash of satisfaction that Potter was gaping like a fish. Truth be told, his test wasn't that bad, but Severus' intent was to shake Potter hard enough to make the boy use his full potential. Contrary to popular belief, Severus knew that Potter had potential, and a lot, but the boy kept neglecting it and it was a shame, really. Snape didn't like teaching stupid students, but nothing made him angrier than to see a powerful potential stay uncultivated.

"Your knowledge of DADA is quite superficial. You know what to say, you know how to use your wand, but you have no idea of why you're doing such things, why the spell works this way," explained Snape.

"No one ever explained these things to me. None of our teachers took the time to explain the theory behind the spell," argued Harry. 'What is his problem,' thought Harry, 'no student, not even Hermione, knows this.'

'There's a reason why people write books, Potter." Harry didn't say anything, just breathed deeply, trying to control his rising anger.

"Potions is no surprise though. We always knew you were not able to grasp the beautiful logic of this art."

'If there is such a thing,' thought Harry.

"Of course there is !" snapped the potions master. Harry hadn't realized he had said that aloud. Oops. "Did you think that potions were created by people who just tried adding some random ingredient and just happened to stumble on an effective potion ?!"

"Well," retorted Harry, "you certainly present it that way. Most of the time, you just write the steps of the potion-making on the board without explaining WHY we should do it that way."

"Are you criticizing my teaching methods, boy ?" asked Snape in a dangerously quiet voice.

"With all due respect sir, I most certainly am, " answered Harry in a calm voice. It was time someone told the old bat the truth about his lessons. "I'm only saying this for the sake of your future students."

Harry could see Snape's cheeks reddening by the minute and understood that the older wizard would never accept any criticism, let alone from Harry. Harry mentally shrugged, it had been worth a try. He sighed.

"But I guess you know your work better than I do," conceded Harry. "Besides," he added in a weak attempt at lifting both Snape and his own spirits, "at the end of the week, I probably won't be your student anymore, and we won't have to see each other again."

"I wouldn't be so sure, boy." What did that mean ? Was he to go back to Hogwarts ? The mere thought of going back there as a student was making Harry shudder in apprehension. He didn't belong to Hogwarts anymore, he could never face his... friends again.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts, only to see Snape give him a folded paper wearing the ministry's crest as well as Hogwarts'. Curiosity overwhelming him, Harry reached for the parchment which, he knew, held his OWLs results. He had got an O in DADA and Care of Magical creatures, E in charms, herbology and history of magic, an A in transfiguration and Potions, and a P in Astrology and Divination. 'Seven OWLs' thought Harry smiling slightly, 'not bad, I guess'.

"I thought you didn't care about Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged, "Must be my legendary curiosity." Then he frowned and added, "I only got an A in Potions, so even if I was to go back to Hogwarts, I wouldn't have you as a teacher, I was right."

"Well," sneered Snape, "you are NOT in Hogwarts, and you WILL study Potions with me. Actually, I'm supposed to teach you every single subject you would learn if you were still attending Hogwarts. And I will keep on tutoring you even after we know the results of the Paternos test."

Harry looked at Snape, a suspicious glint in his eyes. "Why are you pushing it? It's not like you actually want to teach me."

Snape half-smirked at the ridiculous notion of anyone ever wanting to teach the fool boy and simply said, "Headmaster's request."

"I see," was Harry's short answer.

But what Severus could see, was the anger that the teen was unsuccessfully trying to push away. Hell, Dumbledore controlled Severus' life too, and he knew how it felt like to be bullied into doing something one really loathed to do. But his and Potter's case were two entirely different problems. Dumbledore was using Severus only because it helped the Light side. Severus had agreed on becoming a spy because he wanted to redeem his soul by working for the Light, however, Albus couldn't have cared less about his motives. As long as he spied for the good side, the old man was happy. On the other hand, Dumbledore was meddling with the boy's life only to keep him safe. When would he finally see that ?

The boy seemed to understand his professor was thinking, because once he had regained a clear head, he explained calmly, "I'd rather make my own choices and end up dead than be ordered around, even if it is for my own safety. After all, we learn from our mistakes."

"What you have to understand, Potter, is that you are not the only one involved. Your friend Weasley can run away as many times as he wants, it will only sadden his family and his friends. But if YOU run away and get yourself killed, it's the hope of the wizarding world which vanishes. Just like I can't stop spying, you can't stop living. At least not until you kill the Dark Lord."

Harry grimaced. "Nice. Stay alive till you do your job, after that you can go and get killed, we won't give a damn."

"That's how it works, boy. You'd better get used to it."

But Harry was not ready to give up on his hope to live a normal life, so he argued, "Why does everyone believe I have to be the one to kill him? All the prophecy says, is that 'neither can live while the other survives', it doesn't necessarily mean that I should be the one to kill him. Only that the world isn't big enough for the both of us, or so Voldemort thinks."

Snape tapped a finger against his chin. He had never heard the whole prophecy, but if what the boy was saying was true, it could change a lot of things. But why the prophecy then ? Prophecies were rather rare and always dealt with important, historical events. Curious, Snape voiced his thoughts.

"Maybe prophecies are not so rare," answered Harry, "Trelawney made one at the end of my third year, and it was about Wormtail going back to Voldemort. Not such an important matter, if you ask me."

"Wrong, Potter. Wormtail was the one who brought the Dark Lord back." Harry couldn't find anything to answer to that.

Both were lost in their own thoughts until Harry spoke again.

"Do you think it will help, sir ?"

"What are you talking about, Potter ?" asked Snape, irritation showing in his voice.

"All of this," said Harry, making a global motion with his arms, "all these lessons, all the knowledge Dumbledore wants to give me, this so-called 'training'. Do you think it will help me when I finally face Voldemort. Will it make a difference or will I end up dead anyway. A honest answer, please, sir."

Snape's gaze penetrated his student's green orbs and he immediately knew that the boy didn't want to be reassured, he wanted the truth.

"You've never shown a great deal of power, Potter," Snape's tone was serious, and for once held no malice, "except on that fateful night fifteen years ago. You're an average student, although this might have more to do with you not paying attention in class than with any lack of power. I don't think the Dark Lord can be defeated by a powerful Avada Kedavra, much less by you. Others, much more powerful than you, have tried before and have failed. I reckon all the training," he put an emphasis on this word, "we give you is only for you to stay alive long enough to... do whatever you will have to do. I don't know which of you will kill the other, but if you do kill him, my guess is that it will be caused by the link you share with the Dark Lord."

"So," replied Harry slowly, "you think there might be a chance for me to survive ?"

"There's a possibility, Potter. You've managed to stay alive for sixteen years, despite having faced the Dark Lord five times. You work on luck, Potter, maybe your luck will kill the Dark Lord."

Harry was placed before a choice. He could run away again, and forget about Voldemort. Problem was, Voldemort would not forget him. Or he could try to get rid of the Dark Lord as quickly as possible. Problem was, he would have to endure Snape training him. Harry's eyes took on a determined look. This was his only true option. A fire was running through his veins. Harry's head shot up, his gaze locking with his professor's slightly mocking eyes.

"Since running away isn't an option, since I'm forced to go and fight, I'd rather learn something useful."

As Snape raised his eyebrows, the black-haired boy explained, "I want to learn the Dark Arts." Snape's eyes widened but Harry took no notice and went on, "I know you can teach me. Potions, Herbiology, even the nice little curses we learn in DADA, they won't be of any help, really."

"Don't speak of what you don't understand, foolish boy !" growled Snape, his obsidian eyes on fire, "Dark curses are not thrown without consequences ! They are powerful, yes, but do you even know just why they are so powerful ?"

Harry only shook his head. He was more than a little alarmed by the way Snape was suddenly spitting in his face, but tried not to look away.

"When it is not properly taught, the power of the curse can overwhelm you. The curse needs a certain amount of power in order to work, and when it doesn't find it in your regular magical resources, it takes what it needs from the core of your magic, from your very essence, what, basically makes you who you are. Do you see why the improper use of those curses can have tragic consequences ?!"

"Then teach me well." Harry's boy was calm but firm, so unlike his professor's. Truth be told, Harry didn't feel so calm, but he hoped his quiet tone would calm the man, despite his words being rather provocative.

In the meanwhile, Severus was being assaulted by his own doubts. Was the boy really serious about learning the Dark Arts ? The self-righteous Gryffindor had never shown any interest in this subject. In fact, he had seemed to despise the Dark Arts. Severus didn't know what to think anymore. His views on the boy had already been badly shaken a few times this week, and now the noble Golden-boy wanted to learn the Dark Arts ?

Severus shook his head. Things just didn't make much sense these day.

"The headmaster will never agree, Potter."

Potter smirked slightly. "As long as we do exactly what he tells us to, he can't complain, and if he doesn't forbid you to teach me the Dark Arts, then you won't be disobeying in any way."

"And of course," continued Severus for him, "the Headmaster can't forbid anything if he had no idea that this foolish project crossed our minds, is that what your getting at ?"

"Precisely, sir." Yes, the teen was definitely smirking now.

Severus couldn't believe his ears. Had the boy only recently embraced his Slytherin side or had he just concealed it well, in the past ?

"And you think I am willing to be part of this disastrous plan of yours ?"

"I was hoping you would be," said the teen quite seriously, "Dumbledore can appear omniscient to those who don't really know him, but he's just a man. And like every man, he makes mistakes. I'm convinced that not wanting to teach me the Dark Arts is one of them."

"I refuse, Potter. Dumbledore knows what he's doing, and he's got a lot more experience than you and me put together. Besides, the Dark Arts are very advanced magic. Seeing how... average you are, teaching you would be pure madness."

Even though he was trying to stay calm, Harry could feel the anger accumulating inside him. The man hadn't even tried to teach him, and already he assumed that Harry would fail. There was no way Harry would give up, not this time, he had made his mind.

"You told me not to talk about what I didn't know, sir," he said, his voice raising, "Well, maybe you could practice what you preach, for a change. Don't judge without having proofs. How can you know I won't be able to learn the Dark Arts successfully?!"

Snape sneered, and his voice took the quiet tone which always announced the coming of cruel and biting words.

"My dear boy, you're not even able to add ingredients in a given order. This is all the proof I need to declare your utter incompetence. But please, correct me if I'm wrong. Maybe your unbelievably mediocre results were just the result of your incredible genius ? Maybe you're so clever, Mister Potter, that the whole world misunderstands you ? Face it, Potter, apart form throwing first year curses and flying your ridiculously expensive broom, there really isn't a lot you can do !"

The words hit Harry hard, mostly because what Snape had just said had crossed Harry's mind a few times. Besides, the humiliating words made Harry want to take a look at the room to verify that he was not back in a Potions classroom with Malfoy laughing at him. At this moment, Harry truly hated Snape, he couldn't even begin to understand why he had tried to help the greasy git the day before, this man wasn't worth it.

"You never gave me a chance to do well in your bloody class, SIR !" yelled the infuriated teen, "I might have made an effort if you hadn't crushed each and every attempt I made at improving myself !"

"So, you work only to be praised," snapped the Potions Master, "You should work for yourself, not for others. You could have chosen to impress me, but you gave up. As soon as someone wants to push your limits, you run away, just like you did this summer, just like you do each time you encounter a difficulty ! Do you think you sound like the world's savior ? You're just a coward! Fight, and maybe I'll give you some credit !"

Professor and student were now bellowing at the top of their lungs, both voicing the frustration they had accumulated along the years.

"All right ! I am a coward ! Is that what you want to hear ? But now I want to fight, I don't want to run, I WANT TO FIGHT. I'm willing to involve myself fully in this training so, please, give me a chance ! For once in your life, sir, give me a bloody chance !"

Snape didn't answer, Harry's words replaying in his head again and again. The teen's pale cheeks had taken on a rosy color, and Severus could see all the passion the argument had brought in the expressive green eyes.

"This," said Snape in a low and composed voice, "is not possible. Even if I was willing to teach you the Dark Arts, which I am not, I would need you to trust me completely. Could you really trust me with your life, your most hidden secrets, could you truly show me who you really are, without any fear or apprehension ?"

Harry stayed silent, unable to pronounce the 'magic' word. He lowered his head. For the first time since the beginning of the 'conversation', he could not stand his professor's gaze.

"I thought not," breathed Snape, "you may leave."

The teen left the room, quickly and soundlessly, the door shutting softly behind him.

* * *

AN: Review please ! Tell me what you think. Was it worth the wait ? Was it horrible ? Will you stop reading my story forever ? I know that this chapter was a little boring, but trust me, what I wrote here is useful for later chapters. Besides, I swear, next chapter will be much more interesting... ;-) 


	8. Ch 7 : Joy is all around

AN: Hey there ! Finally, the big chapter has come ;-). The POVS might (once again) be a little confusing, but I'm sure you're smart enough to get it anyway !

By the way, I know that it's annoying when authors begin their chapters with long boring notes but I realized that I had not answered some reviews since the beginning of this story so I guess the time has come ! Feel free to skip this part and go straight to the story ;-)

Chapter 1 : Nicoletta-- Harry's conscious that not taking his invisibility cloak is not a strategic move, and he knows that the Dursleys will destroy his belongings but it was more of an emotional decision, you know ? He simply cannot take anything that might remind him of the magical world. His wand is the only exception.

Chapter 4 : Molly Morrison—Harry doesn't try to escape because he's seen Snape putting up some security charms. As to what the order members were doing when Harry ran off, let's just assume that Mundugus was on duty ;-) (I admit I hadn't thought about that... shame on me)

Nicoletta—Hermione and Ron will appear later on, but they won't be very important to the story (sorry) .

Amber 16—Harry is not leaving his friends behind, he's just trying to protect them as well as himself by going away.

Chapter 5: Leggylover03: Harry's attitude comes from a few months spent in the streets, the poor boy can't help it ;-). Ron and Hermione will appear, but not much.

Chapter 6: RAFfreak: I'm sorry if the story drags a little, but it's because I'm trying not to rush things so we can see Harry/Snape interaction evolve in a realistic way... I hope.

Lady Lily: er... thanks... I'm blushing :-)

Chapter 7: Lady Lily3—I agree, my chapters' titles are sometimes cryptic, but mostly ironic ;-). You're idea is good, but they won't necessarily mention the incident aloud, however, Snape will remember pretty well that Harry tried to help him, and who knows , he might finally see the light ??

Scary Person—my intention was not to make Harry look like an idiot, not at all. But I want his progress to be obvious, though not rushed. He has a lot of potential but has never been told how to use it. And I know that he's not a coward, but he THINKS he is !

Barbara Kennedy—one review is better than no review at all ! Thanks.

SlythCat19—thank you for pointing that out !

And for everyone who has reviewed, once or several times, THANKS A LOT ! You know that I love you, right ? By the way, I have discovered that I have a problem with beta readers... hum... yeah so thank you for those who have offered their help (Narnian princess for example) and... er... don't kill me for not having betaed this ????

Finally, you can read the actual chapter: ENJOY !

* * *

_What am I_

**Chapter 7**

* * *

The following morning, not much was said between the professor and his student, both preferring to avoid another confrontation. As they were about to step inside the fireplace, Harry's guts twisted in anticipation. He was going to learn the identity of his father. Maybe he had a whole family waiting for him somewhere ... However, Harry didn't dare raise his hopes up. Even if his father was still alive, what if he didn't want to claim him ?

"Finally," said Snape as he took a handful of floo powder, "I must say that it's quite a relief to be rid of you, Potter."

"The feeling is mutual, sir." Harry answered absentmindedly , too engrossed in his own musing to really put any hardness in his voice.

Soon, they were stepping out of the fireplace into Dumbledore's office. Severus put a small cauldron full of a clear potion on the desk beside a small silver dagger he had produced from one of his pocket. The Headmaster, his ever-cheerful smile on his face, greeted Severus and Harry warmly. Harry frowned slightly when he heard a hint of trepidation in the old man's voice. His life seemed to be more entertaining than any Muggle TV show, he thought sarcastically. Once again, the Headmaster's behavior was making him feel uncomfortable, the forced joy not matching with the pain he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"We'll effectuate the test immediately," said Dumbledore animatedly, "Harry, if you could please make a small cut in one of your fingers and let the blood fall into the cauldron."

Harry took the dagger and held it numbly over his index. "Does it matter how many drops fall into the potion ?" There was no way he would let anything ruin the test, he needed to know who his father was.

"Three should be enough," said the Headmaster in a perfected 'kind voice', "no need to make you bleed to death."

'Not funny', thought Harry, even if he did appreciate the attempt at lightening his mood. He let three blood drops fall, and watched the potion turn a vivid purple. Harry felt he could have fainted. He was barely breathing, his eyes not leaving the potion for a second , not even to blink. But nothing happened.

Harry sent a puzzled look at the potions Master . "What happened ? Why isn't it working ?"

"It IS working, you idiot boy, the potion is merely not instantaneous !" barked Snape, indignation obvious in his voice.

How dare the brat insinuate that he had made a mistake ? He was not just a teacher, he was a Master. The best Potions Master of England for Merlin's sake !

"Whoever happens to be your father," growled Snape under his breath, still irate, "let's hope he won't commit suicide when he learns just what his son is!"

"Now, Severus," reprimanded the Headmaster, "no need to –" but Dumbledore forgot his words when he saw blurry letters appearing slowly in the purple mixture. 'Lily Suzanne Evans,' was already distinguishable, but the other letters were still too blurry to be correctly understood. Harry squinted his eyes, trying to make out the three other words. Suddenly, he heard someone inhale sharply. Harry glanced at his teacher, and saw that his skin had turned pasty white, instead of its usual yellowish color.

Harry quickly looked back into the cauldron and gasped. The words were still a little blurry but one could already read, 'Severus Armunus Snape.'

Nobody could look away from the cauldron, where the words were appearing more clearly with each passing second. All three of them were hoping that the letters would suddenly rearrange themselves, that they were just misunderstanding the message that the potion was throwing in their faces.

After a few minutes of starring, the words were clear and sharp, and there was no way to deny what the Paternos Test was declaring. Dumbledore sat behind his desk , observing the two younger men.

"I must have made a mistake," said Snape curtly.

Harry was experiencing a weird feeling : it seemed that his body had become numb, and he had the distinct impression that he was 'collapsing' on himself, that each of his limbs were detaching themselves from the rest of his body. 'I am being deconstructed,' thought the boy who didn't know who he was anymore.

"You know that's not true, Severus," argued Dumbledore, not noticing Harry's slightly dazed look.

"THERE IS NO WAY HE CAN BE MY SON, ALBUS !" shouted Snape in a slightly hysterical way, his pale cheeks now wearing symmetrical patches of scarlet.

"Severus, you're overreacti—"

"HE-IS-NOT-MY-SON !" yelled the Potions Master, "I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS LITTLE—" but it was his turn to stop in the middle of a sentence. He had been cut in his tirade by what was unmistakably a chuckle. Severus turned around swiftly and saw the stupid boy smiling dumbly. Another chuckle escaped his lips, and then a big laugh erupted from the boy's throat. Severus really couldn't see what was so funny about their situation, and the insane smile on the boy's face was irritating him to no end.

"What's so funny Potter ?" snapped Severus, "That's one of your joke, isn't it ? Another immature prank ?"

Harry was now howling with laugher, but he still managed to say in a taunting voice, "Not Potter, professor, not Potter but Snape !"

"Are you deaf, you stupid boy ? I'm not your father !"

"No," said Harry between two laughing fits, "you're not my father. You can't be, since I'm deaf like my father, stupid like my father, arrogant like my father..."

"That's enough !" yelled Snape, "Shut up, just shut up ! You're not my son, put that in that thick Gryffindor head of yours. I am, in no way, related to you, boy, don't even dare think otherwise !"

But Harry was still laughing nervously, and Dumbledore grew concerned when the boy started having trouble catching his breath.

"Drink this, Harry," Dumbledore placed a green potion into the teen's hand, "otherwise you're going to hyperventilate."

Harry downed the drink and sobered almost instantaneously. "Alright, Harry, take a deep breath. How do you feel ?"

The potion had done its job, and had gotten rid of Harry's nervous laugher. 'Time to use the situation to my advantage,' thought Harry before answering, "Not very good... I think I'm going to throw up..."

"Do you want to see Madam Pomfrey ?" Harry only nodded.

"You may go . Most of the students are in Hogsmeade right now, except the first years, so you should not meet anyone you know. But if you do, go on without stopping, it would be reckless to talk to any of your old friends, is that understood ?"

Harry nodded again, his eyes half closed, a hand clamped over his mouth. He was inwardly surprised that he had managed to escape that easily. The headmaster must really have wanted to talk with the greasy git alone...

The door clicked shut after the teen left the room and Albus Dumbledore pierced his employee with his steely gaze.

"Severus, my dear boy, I think we need to talk."

* * *

As soon as he had closed the door, Harry crouched and gently pressed his ear against the door. At first, he heard nothing, until :

"THE BRAT IS NOT MY SON, ALBUS ! AND EVEN IF HE IS, IT IS BY ACCIDENT, I DON'T WANT HIM ! I CAN'T AND DON'T WANT TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE BLOODY BOY-WHO-LIVED AND YOU—"

The voice stopped abruptly and Harry guessed that Dumbledore had put a silencing spell on Snape, or had, at the very least, reinforced the sound shields on the room. After all, some secrets were better left unrevealed, right ? Either way, it didn't change anything, since Harry already knew everything he had to know.

Snape was his father ? Snape didn't want him ? Fine, he didn't want the greasy git to be his father, anyway. It was better to be an orphan than to be the son of a sadistic bastard. But even through his hatred for the man, Harry could feel an agonizing pain worming its way into his heart. Damn it, why did he have to be so weak !

Trying his best to ignore the pain, Harry turned around and walked silently down the stairs.

* * *

"Why are you so adamant on saying that Harry is not your son, Severus ?" Dumbledore had managed to cast a silencing charm on the room, and almost simultaneously throw a calming charm on the Potions Master.

"I remember that Lily and you used to be quite close at a time," he added.

"We were, but then she went with Potter, end of the story." Severus had regained most of his composure, thanks to the Headmaster's charm, but bitterness was still very much present in his voice.

"You never...er... had something else with her later on ?"

"No."

"Are you sure ?" Dumbledore's voice was unusually firm.

"Do you know something, Albus ? Because if you've got something to say, say it now and be done with it."

"I'd rather you admitted your relationship with Miss Evans first. How did it happen Severus ?"

Severus sighed and let his head fall into his hands.

"Do you remember when Potter," he stopped, and clarified, "when James Potter went missing and we all thought he was dead ?" Dumbledore nodded and Severus went on, "Lily was desperate. I tried to comfort her as well as I could but I only knew one thing which had the ability to make me forget my troubles : alcohol. One night –I don't even remember which one—we drank a fair amount of Firewhisky and we... got a little carried away, I'm afraid. In the morning, I didn't even feel bad about what we had done, since I believed that Potter was dead. Lily felt guilty and ashamed. She didn't even like me all that much, she had just slept with me on an impulse induced by the Firewhisky flowing in her veins. I chased her remorse away, arguing that Potter wouldn't have wanted her to stop living because of him."

Severus stopped and took a long breath, "Potter reappeared a week later. He was severely injured—he spent two months in the hospital wing, I guess you remember that much—but alive all the same. Lily immediately went back to the man she loved and made me swear to never tell a soul, which was fine with me, since I didn't want to be hunted down and killed by the possessive James Potter. I just broke my oath, Albus."

"Yes, you did, but given that you did it in order to protect your son, I guess you're forgiven."

Severus shook his head, a derisive smirk on his lips. "It can't be me. It happened a year and half before Potter's birth."

Dumbledore rubbed his beard, and a triumphant twinkle appeared in his eyes, as if he had just solved a very old mystery.

"One day when James was in the hospital wing," he said, "Lily came to talk to me. She wanted to know something about the Timusni charm. She wanted to know whether it could work on a fetus." Snape swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with the news, but the Headmaster went on, "I assumed that she was pregnant, and that the baby was not James'. She wanted to cast the charm on the boy so that it would stop his developement, and would only begin growing again nine months later. I told her that I didn't know how to cast the charm without making it apply on the mother too, but apparently, she found a way."

"You mean," breathed Severus, as much for Dumbledore as for himself, "that Lily carried my child twice the normal time so that the supposed date of the baby's conception would leave no doubt as to who his father was ?"

"Indeed, Severus," said Dumbledore in a sad voice, "she was very good at charms. She even managed to put an enormous glamour charm on the boy, one which lasted sixteen years."

Severus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You knew." This was a statement, not a question.

"I suspected," corrected the Headmaster.

"And you've let me be a total git to my son for all those years !" spat Severus. Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Severus' anger was directed more at himself than at the older man.

"I'm not the one who humiliated him, Severus. You had no problem with your behavior when you thought he was James' son."

Ouch. It was only too true. A wave of guilt overflowed the Potions Master as he whispered, "He's been abused, you know ? By his relatives. From what I gathered, he's been starved and beaten."

Dumbledore winced. "Yes, I more or less knew that. But you have to understand that he had to be brought up by Muggles."

Severus understood. "He needed to know the Muggle world to be inclined to save it one day. I understand, however I do not approve. With what he's endured, it's a wonder he didn't sided with Voldemort to take over the world. The abuse left some nasty scars on the boy, and not only physical scars. I don't know if he will ever trust anyone again."

"You HAVE to gain his trust, Severus." Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes were cold. They held no twinkle, only strength. "You have to bring him back. We need him for the coming war. If we want him to play his role and be of any use at all, we need his total and utter confidence in us."

Severus felt a hint of disgust toward the old man.

"If I ever gain his trust," growled Snape, "I do not intend to give it away to you, just for the sake of your war."

* * *

Harry was running. He had reached the forbidden forest but didn't care, he just kept on running. He hadn't met anyone on his way out, or maybe he had just not seen them through his tears. He didn't even know why tears were covering his face, it was not like he actually wanted the bastard to be his father.

He was running and crying. The branches whipped his face and arms but he barely noticed. The only pain he felt was the one in his chest. It felt like his ribcage was going to break from the pressure.

He was running and crying. He didn't know why he was running, but somehow, he had the impression that as long as he would keep running, nothing would harm him. He was running away from the truth, away from his past. He was running away from abusive relatives, away from a manipulating man who had once been a grand-father figure in his life, away from a forsaking father... no, Snape was not and would never be his father. The man didn't want him, and the feeling was reciprocal.

Harry stumbled on a root and fell, twisting his ankle in the process. He stood up, ignoring the pain, or maybe not feeling it at all, and started running again. He heard his name being called, far behind, but didn't turn back. He wanted to find a place of peace, a place where he belonged, and maybe if he kept running long enough, he would find it.

The voice was getting closer. 'No way,' thought Harry as he wiped the tears away from his face, 'I won't go back.'

"Potter ! Harry ! Stop running, we need to talk." It was Snape's voice.

"Go fuck yourself !" yelled Harry, really not in the mood to respect the proper code of respect. "I don't have anything to say to you !"

"For Merlin's sake, boy, stop running or I'll be forced to hex you !"

Harry took no notice and only ran faster. He heard spells being thrown his way but he managed to dodge behind some conveniently placed trees.

After sending a quick glance behind his back, Harry started running again, only to be tackled to the ground by the imposing Potions Master. Harry struggled against his attacker but Snape was way heavier than him.

"Stop fighting, boy, it will get you nowhere !"

"Leave me alone !" yelled Harry just as his reflexes finally kicked in. He didn't know how to fight like heroes do in movies, he didn't know any martial art, but the street was still a good though hard teacher. Harry finally managed to free one of his hand and used it to send an unexpected punch in his professor's face. He used Snape's surprise to crawl away from the man and scramble to his feet.

Unfortunately for Harry, just as he stood up, a hand grabbed his sprained ankle and pulled hard on it, effectively making him lose his balance. Harry fell flat on his stomach, uncomfortably aware of the root digging into his ribcage, grazing his skin. The throbbing pain in his cheekbones was attributed to the rock on which he had hit his head. Harry tried to get up once again but the vicious hand was still holding his ankle in a firm and painful grasp.

Snape managed to get hold of Harry's hands and held them behind his back, thus preventing the teen from escaping again.

"Stop moving ! You'll only hurt yourself, you idiot boy !" Far from calming him, the harsh voice only made Harry struggle harder.

Face pressed against the forest's ground, Harry could feel some earth entering into his mouth and into his nose as he breathed frantically. Twigs were grazing his cheeks and the sharp root was still hurting his chest. He was suffocating, panicking, he couldn't breath.

His sight blurred and waves of black, gold and green filled his vision. He was barely aware of someone shaking him and calling him back. But he couldn't go back. The green was too intense, and it was angry. It was trying to detach itself from the golden wave, and where it had succeeded, there were small spots of black. Harry watched the struggle until it became too painful, and then, everything became black.

* * *

AN: There ! I understand that the end of this chapter may be a little confusing but it's the beginning of gasp a plot ! And you'll understand in later chapters, anyway... So what do you think ? I had fun writing this chapter, and I'd like to know your opinion, so, review please !

Oh, and as usual, if you find mistakes, it would be nice to point them out ! :-)


	9. Ch 8 : Happy family or not

AN : FINALLY ! Yes, I know, I've been a bad author, real life kinda got in the way. Exams, new home, etc... I'm really sorry about the loooooooong delay... forgive me ? I hope you're still with me anyway ;-) As always, a huge Thanks goes to all those who reviewed and kicked me in the ass to make me continue this ! (See Zhemshug, I've updated, go me). I repeat, I WILL finish this story.  
  
This chapter is not betaed, but I've re-read him as many times as I could to eliminate most of my mistakes.  
  
Finally, some of you might not like the name I chose for Harry, and I know it is not original, but it kept coming back to me every time I tried to find something else... besides, this name had already been mentioned in earlier chapters, so I couldn't do anything about it...  
  
Anyway, Enjoy !

* * *

_ What Am I_  
  
**Chapter 8  
**  
Severus watched the sleeping boy , millions of thoughts fighting in his head. The boy was his son. That was a disturbing thought. Curious, and almost afraid of what he would see, Severus careful took in every detail of the boy, truly looking at him for the first time.  
  
His skin was extraordinarily white, a paleness only accentuated by the angry brown-red scars that the grazing twigs had left on the teen's left cheek. The boy had fainted in the forest and was now resting in Snapes Manor, his labored breath revealing that he was not sleeping peacefully. Severus chased the memory of the pursuit away and returned to his detailed study of the boy. His light complexion came from Lily's side, but his nose didn't. It wasn't large and hooked like Severus' –courtesy of his father— nor was it small and delicate like Lily's. The boy's nose was thin, had well defined nostrils, and was slightly aquiline, just like Severus' mother's and Icar's had been. The last few days, the boy had been reminding him of someone, but Severus hadn't been able to remember who this person was. Now he knew. It was Icar, his Uncle, his mother's brother. He hadn't known the man very well, given that Icar had been rather asocial and used to prefer the company of his own thoughts rather than the presence of other human beings. He had committed suicide when Severus was only fifteen, but the Potion Master could clearly remember the weird glint in his Uncle's eyes, the one who spoke about madness. Fortunately, the sleeping boy wasn't familiar with this glint, and the resemblance between Severus' son and Icar was merely a physical one.  
  
The high cheekbones and the jaw, however, had clearly been inherited from Severus. The boy's hair was black –or maybe it was just a very dark brown— straight, and silky, reminding Severus of his own hair before it had become greasy because of the potions.  
  
All in all, even if the resemblance was not striking, there was no denying the boy was his. Severus sighed and put his head into his hands, trying to sort his feelings out. One of them was anger.  
  
One night. One crazy night that he had almost managed to forget. Only one night, and it had been enough to create this mess. He had just discovered that he had a son, a sixteen year old son, and a constant reminder of this shameful night when he had stolen James' wife and satisfied his primary urges. He would have liked to remember Lily as a nice and faithful young woman. A little too Gryffindor, maybe, but not as insufferable as her husband had been. But no, he would remember her drunk and lost, and he would always know that it was his own doing.  
  
Another feeling was confusion. The boy who was currently sleeping in front of him had always looked like James, in his behavior, in his actions, and even in his looks. But this boy was not a Potter, even worse, he was a Snape ! So how comes he had seen so much of James Potter in the boy ?  
  
'Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see,' acknowledged Severus with a tired sigh.  
  
Now that he thought about it, he could remember some times when the boy had surprised him by thinking like Severus himself would have. At these times, he had brushed it off, but now that he was paying more attention to those small details, he could clearly see the Snape side of the boy.  
  
This aroused ambiguous feelings in him. Truth be told, he still considered the boy as Potter's son, not his, and he had the strange impression that the boy was a spy, that it was all one of the Marauders' bad joke, destined to break his shields and embarrass him.  
  
But somewhere, deep inside, he felt an odd sense of pride at seeing the resemblance between himself and his... son. The word still felt weird, even if he was not actually pronouncing it. The notion sent a shiver down his spine. He could not afford to have a son. This was one weakness he could do without. However, and as unfortunate as the situation might be, he did not have a choice in the matter.  
  
He sighed once again, overwhelmed by the enormity of the mess they were in, and decided that he would make an effort. He new he wouldn't be 'nice', it wasn't in his nature, but he would at least try to put the boy at ease. Merlin knew it would be easier to sort things out if the boy was cooperating. 

* * *

Harry woke up slowly, not opening his eyes. It was a habit he had picked along the years, never to open his eyes before having fully identified where he was. It was as much a game as a survival technique. Harry heard a second respiration and deduced that he wasn't alone in the room. He concentrated on breathing deeply and slowly, as not to alert the other person that he was awake. As he inhaled deeply, he recognized the scent of the place.  
  
'Great,' he thought, 'back in this bloody manor.'  
  
He was gradually remembering the events that had lead him to wake up in this room.  
  
'Right,' he thought, 'I remember now. My father happens to be a greasy git who's made my life a living hell for those past five years and who – surprise, surprise – doesn't want to know me. And why the hell am I back at HIS place ? Knowing him, he's upset by the mere presence of my filthy self in his home.'  
  
Harry quickly realized that being sarcastic and slightly hysterical with himself was highly inefficient as well as counter-productive, and didn't successfully lessen the burning feeling in his chest. Why did it have to be Snape ? Of all the people, why did Snape have to be his bloody father ? Reminding himself to breath deeply, he tried to ignore his sudden need to throw up.  
  
Why was he so... disappointed ? After all, he had never had anything remotely close to a loving family and still, he had always managed to get by, so why should he want a father ? He didn't need one, he was stronger than that. He had grown up in a hostile environment for the past fifteen years and had managed to survive on his own in the streets three months, he was almost an adult. This desire for a father was ridiculous.  
  
But even as Harry repeated those words over and over in his head, he felt a lump growing in his throat. With each thought destined to reassure himslef, the burning sensation grew, squashing Harry's every attempts at getting over the fact that his father didn't want him. He grimly understood that the problem was not that his father was Snape. Of course, he was the last person Harry would have wanted for a father, but after a whole life of not having a true family, he would have accepted anyone as his father, even Lucius Malfoy.  
  
No, the problem was that Snape had rejected him. Harry could stand to be rejected by his Aunt, Uncle and cousin. After all, they hated everything related to magic, this was a known fact, nothing to write home about. But knowing that his own father had refused to acknowledge him was the last straw. Harry felt his need to throw up increase. He was disgusted. Disgusted with himself for being so weak, for daring to believe that he could have a family, for having once again been fooled by his screwed-up fate. But now wasn't the time to wallow in self-pity, especially not when...  
  
"I know you're awake."  
  
Oops. Harry had forgotten to keep his breath steady, and now there was no point in pretending to be asleep. He opened his eyes, grateful for the semi- darkness of the room, and tried to sit up. After a lot of efforts and a few pains, he finally succeeded, aware that his Professor's mocking eyes had been watching each of his movements.  
  
"I guess you're feeling better." Snape's voice held no kindness, but Harry failed to notice that, by Snape's standard, this remark could almost be considered as 'nice'.  
  
"I guess," was Harry's dry answer. His throat was stinging painfully and it showed in his raspy voice. Hoping that Snape would attribute his sore throat to his previous ordeal, Harry softly cleared his throat.  
  
Snape was about to speak but Harry beat him to it. He didn't feel like he could endure a long monologue about how useless he was and how there was no way Snape would ever acknowledge being related to him. It was hard enough to know that the man rejected him, hearing it would only make Harry's emotional shields collapse even more than they already had.  
  
"I know what you're going to say, sir," said Harry in a drained voice, "I have a suggestion. We go back to our student-teacher relationship – if there ever was such a thing – and we forget everything we learned in Dumbledore's office. It never happened. What do you think ?"  
  
Harry's heart was beating madly. He couldn't prevent himself from hoping against hope that Snape wouldn't agree. He was yearning for the Potions Master to suddenly embrace him in a fatherly hug, and explain that it had all been an act, that he had only been pretending to be an uncaring bastard. What was wrong with him ? The day before he would have been disgusted by the mere idea of having Snape as a father and now he wanted this man to accept his role, more than anything.  
  
Almost afraid to look, Harry observed Snape's reaction through the obsidian eyes of the man. All he saw was rage. Harry interpreted this anger as Snape's displeasure with being told what to do. He never understood that what this furor was hiding was in fact, pain.  
  
"Agreed," growled Snape.  
  
Both men watched each other silently, until Snape spoke up again, his voice calm and composed.  
  
"When you ran away, what was your full name ?"  
  
"Why do you want to know ?" bit Harry defensively.  
  
Snape sighed in frustration and annoyance, "I need to call you something, you idiot boy ! 'Potter' seems hardly appropriate given the circumstances, don't even dare think I would call you by your first name, and using 'boy' all the time would be quite awkward. I suggest we use your alias. You become this person again, I won't have to deal with Harry Potter anymore."  
  
Harry took a few seconds to think about it. He had mixed feelings about the whole thing. On the one hand, he was already used to that name and knew he would always respond to it, but on the other hand, this name had been his escape. A mean to escape the magical world and be just another muggle. Deciding that it couldn't be helped, Harry gave the older man his alias.  
  
"Sebastian Arlan," spoke Harry softly, almost reverently. Then, shaking himself out of his memories, he added in a neutral tone, "also known as 'Seb'. No middle name." He shrugged.  
  
Severus cringed a little when he heard the name. 'Sebastian' was all right, but 'Arlan' was as far from 'Snape' as a name could be. 'Don't think that,' Severus chastised himself, 'the boy... no, Sebastian Arlan has made it clear that he doesn't want to have anything to do with you, and that's a good thing. Remember Severus, you don't want him in your family, you can't allow yourself to have any weakness.'  
  
Even as he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, he felt a pang of disappointment stinging painfully in his chest, but only for a few seconds. Raising all his shields back to top level, Severus only said, "'Sebastian Arlan' will do," burying his shameful pain behind a new-found hatred for the boy.  
  
Harry, or rather Sebastian, looked deeply into the man's eyes, and all he saw there was hatred. Severus Snape hated Sebastian Arlan almost as much as he had loathed Harry Potter.  
  
The silence was getting more than just a little uncomfortable when Har... Seb asked, "How long have I slept, sir ?" The question was asked in a formal and polite way.  
  
"It's half past six and you've been asleep since this morning when you fainted in the forest." Snape emphasized the word 'fainted' and finished his sentence with a mocking smirk.  
  
"I had a vision..." Seb trailed off, only just remembering this specific incident.  
  
"You had a vision ??" That was yet another turn of events that Severus had not anticipated. "A vision," added Snape, "from the Dark Lord ?" There was something in his voice which clearly said 'you'd better have occluded your mind, or else...'  
  
"No," blurted out Seb as quickly as possible, not wanting to receive another tongue lashing.  
  
"It wasn't the Dark Lord," he continued, "it was something blurry... some kind of magma. Different colors. And so much power... waves of different colors were trying to separate from each other, but there was something holding them back..."  
  
The youth stopped, not knowing how to explain the painful feeling he had experienced during this vision.  
  
"Where did it take place ?" urged Snape, not liking one bit what the boy was saying, "the magma, could you tell where it was ?"  
  
"In me." 

* * *

Harry, or rather, Sebastian, slept through the end of the day and the following night. When he went down for breakfast in the morning, he found the house empty, and a note waiting for him on the kitchen table. It was a timetable. Snape had placed lessons on each day of the week, except on Sundays.  
  
'Weird,' thought Seb, 'if Snape teaches me, how is he going to handle his Hogwarts lessons ?'  
  
He quickly scanned the timetable and discovered that the cursus was slightly different from the one he would have followed at Hogwarts. Sure, there was still Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Potion, but there was also Spell Theory, Legal Magic (this one would be boring, he thought) and Strategy. Oh, and of course, the dear old Occlumency lessons.  
  
Stuffing his timetable into his back pocket, he sat down to have breakfast.  
  
There was no one in the house. He could have escaped. But he didn't. It was too soon or too late to do that. He needed to stay, and see how the situation would evolve. To leave now, would truly have been a disastrous tactic.  
  
It had taken him less time than he had thought it would, to once again think of himself as Sebastian and not Harry. In fact, it felt more right. He had stopped being Harry Potter when he had stopped looking like the Boy- Who-Lived. Harry Potter had been a small bony boy with untamable hair. Sebastian Arlan was taller, though not nearly as tall as Snape, paler, and had flat straight hair which tended to get greasy rather easily. Harry Potter didn't exist anymore. Sebastian Arlan did. And it felt right. Funny how some sadistic God had always played with him. Harry Potter had started his life as a muggle, only to discover that he was a wizard. And now, Sebastian Arlan, the perfect muggle, had also become a wizard. Seb shook his head. No matter where he ran, fate always found him.  
  
Snape reappeared an hour later. He stalked past Seb, ignoring him completely, and stepped up the stairs with all the grace and power which gave the man so much confidence. However, Seb noticed that the professor was limping ever so slightly. How the man could limp and still be so gracefully was something he didn't even try to understand, but the limp meant one thing. Death Eater meeting. How long until he was finally killed in one of these ? He didn't know whether he would be sad or relieved if it came to happen. After all, it would be much easier to pretend that none of this had ever happened. 

* * *

"Concentrate, you stupid boy !"  
  
"I am concentrating, sir ! But how am I supposed to succeed when you don't even tell me how to do it !"  
  
Seb threw his wand on the floor. Occlumency lessons were as bad as ever and both wizards were extremely aggravated. From the teen's point of view, this latest lesson had only managed to cancel all the improvements he had made during his stay in the muggle world.  
  
"I already told you what you had to do, Mister Arlan, but maybe my words are still too complicated for a simple mind such as yours to understand ? Or maybe you don't realize that Occlumency might, one day, be your only mean to save your pathetic little life ?"  
  
Yes, everything was back to normal. Sebastian was shouting, Snape was sneering, and both were too proud and too furious to stop the argument.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know that !" said the infuriated teen, "The Dark Lord, bla bla, I'm stupid, bla bla. Can't you be a little more creative ? Or could you, at least, try teaching me instead of just insulting me ?"  
  
Snape visibly paled as he muttered something under his breath. Seb couldn't hear what he was saying, but what the Potion Master had done became obvious when he realized that something was not right with his tongue. He was unable to move it, and it seemed to be stuck in a rigid position. Seb rolled his eyes and groaned when he noticed the coldness emanating from his own mouth. A freezing charm. Great.  
  
"This, Mister Arlan, will help you remember that sometimes, it's preferable to stay silent. Your behavior during this lesson has been totally unacceptable, and I will NOT let you get away with this kind of display. Enjoy this nice charm, Arlan, I'll come back in a few hours."  
  
With these words, Severus left the room, locking the door behind him.  
  
"BAHHRCARG !!" yelled Seb after him, even though he knew that his tongue didn't allow him to insult his teacher as much as he would have wanted.  
  
Seb slumped on the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. Why was it that he could never do anything right when it came to Occlumency lessons ? Surprising as it may be, the other classes he had taken with Snape had gone relatively well until this one. They hadn't exactly been enjoyable, but they had definitely turned out to be better than what he had imagined. Legal Magic was actually all right, and very useful : how to avoid being thrown to Azkaban was particularly interesting, given that a few spells that Seb would be using were bordering on dark. Snape was still refusing to teach him the Dark Arts in their integrality, but a few minor dark spells were thrown here and there in his cursus.  
  
According to Dumbledore, evil could not be conquered by evil, but Seb had some doubts on the subject. Knowing the manipulative old man, these words had probably been lies, destined to minimize Seb's rebellious behavior. He snorted at the idea of becoming a second Dark Lord. Not a chance, that was much too stressful.  
  
But back to the subject at hand. Potion and Transfiguration were still not his favorite classes, but most of the time, he managed to get through them without being yelled at too much. He could take a few insults here and there, after all, he was used to it. Strategy lessons were not what he had expected. He had thought it would be like playing chess, but with a more complicated game. However up to now, it had only been a lecture on different tactics in the fields. Good to know, but it could become boring pretty quickly.  
  
Spell Theory turned out to be quite interesting, giving Sebastian a better understanding of his own magic. This subject was however, very complicated, and Snape had more than once launched himself in a long monologue, unaware that Sebastian had long ago given up on understanding what the Potions Master was talking about. Once or twice, Snape and his student had, much to their surprise, caught themselves talking animatedly about one of the theory's many subtleties. But most of the time, Snape tended to forget that Sebastian had only just discovered this particular aspect of magic. Seb shook his head, annoyed by his teacher's inability to be realistic about such things. The man was just too difficult to satisfy. Not that Seb cared. He was studying and training for himself, not for the cold and bitter man's praise... But still, some part of him wanted the older man to be proud of him. After all, the man was his... no, better not go there.  
  
Seb abruptly stopped this train of thoughts, and chose a safest subject to think about. Defense Against the Dark Arts. At least, he was still good at Defense. Some things would, luckily, never change. The tiniest of smile appeared on the teen's face as he recalled a specific lesson.  
  
Snape had challenged him to execute the "Belinera" spell, a spell that creates a wave of power around the caster which, if it is properly executed, knocks every person standing in the room, off their feet. The potion Master had only showed him the spell once, before stepping away, leaving his student the space to practice.  
  
Seb had waved his wand and said the word exactly like his professor had done, but nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing. Snape had walked back toward him, a condescending smirk adorning his sour face.  
  
"Please sir," Seb had said, holding up his hand, "I'd like to try again." The older man had agreed with a mocking sneer, convinced that he would not succeed.  
  
Seb had noticed that the movement of the wand looked like a spiral, and it had triggered his memory. 'That's right', he had thought, remembering the Spell Theory lesson, 'the spiral means that I should not see my magic going through my wand, but I should rather visualize it as a blanket wrapped around me.'  
  
Eyes closed, he had whispered "Belinera", too concentrated on feeling the magic around him to bother saying the word any louder. He had opened his eyes just in time to see the surprised look on Snape's face as he had stumbled. The Potions Master had however managed to stay on his feet, causing Sebastian to sigh in disappointment, and Snape to smirk.  
  
"Why, Mister Arlan, it seems that you've finally figured out how to use this simple brain of yours," Snape had sneered, but his voice had held no venom. The teen had almost rolled his eyes. Coming from Snape, this was as close to a compliment as Seb would ever hear. Of course, this small victory had given Snape an excuse to make him work even harder. At least, at the end of the session, he had totally mastered the Belerina spell.  
  
Seb tried to swallow, but he quickly discovered that the state of his tongue made it a lot more difficult than it should. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he found a good technique, whose major flaw was that he had to emit a loud and not very discreet "gulp" to make it work. It made him look ridiculous, but it was better than to drown in his own saliva.  
  
Damn Snape and his sadistic ideas. Sebastian's tongue was aching and he was starting to get bored. He couldn't even practice Defense given that he couldn't talk properly. He tried anyway, having heard of Silent Magic. He was still trying—unsuccessfully—to cast the Belinera spell without speaking, an hour later when Snape stepped in the room.  
  
Seb sent a murderous look at his teacher as he tried to swallow without making a fool of himself. Snape only looked at him, an amused smirk on his face as he realized what his student what doing.  
  
"You seem to have some difficulty in swallowing," Snape mocked him, shaking his head dramatically, "Come on, Mr. Arlan, surely you can achieve such a simple task." He paused before continuing, "Clearly, I have overestimated you." With a flick of Snape's wand, Seb's tongue turned back to normal. As he swallowed his saliva, Seb could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment.  
  
"Remember, Arlan," Snape growled, all traces of amusement gone, "you'd better not use this tone with me again. You got away easily this time, but next time you choose to talk to me without the proper respect, don't expect me to hold back." Snape's voice was deadly serious, and Seb couldn't prevent the chill that ran down his spine as he thought about everything the Potions Master's words promised.  
  
Knowing better than to argue, Seb used his most polite and deceivingly submissive tone to answer, "Yes, Sir."  
  
"Good boy." For a moment, a pensive expression took the place of Snape's usually blank face, until he turned his gaze back on the still silent youth.  
  
"I've just had a small chat with the Headmaster, about your vision."  
  
Seb arched an eyebrow, indicating his semi-interest in whatever the old man might have to say. Snape only cast him a disapproving glance, but didn't say anything.  
  
"It seems that he had anticipated this turn of events." Sebastian barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Dumbledore would have anticipated ANY kind of events. Who did the old man think he was fooling ?  
  
"The green wave you felt would be the Dark Lord's power. You do know that you stole a small part of the Dark Lord's power, when he attacked you fifteen years ago ?"  
  
Seb nodded, not bothering to point out that "stole" was not exactly an appropriate word. He had never intended to take those powers, he had never done anything to put himself in this mess.  
  
"These powers want to retrieve their master. They're more than just powers, they're a part of the Dark Lord's essence, that's why they can't stay with you." Snape sighed, "according to Headmaster Dumbledore, this alien essence in your body could explain your ineptitude at Occlumency. This could be the reason why you felt I was opening your mind to the Dark Lord, last year."  
  
This could make sense. But then, they had a problem. And a big one.  
  
"What you're telling me, Sir, is that either way I lose," said Seb carefully, "if I let those powers go, Voldemort will be even more powerful, and if I don't, I'll never be able to keep him out of my mind, right?"  
  
Snape nodded, "These powers might even prevent you from learning properly any kind of magic, not only Occlumency."  
  
Sebastian frowned. "I might not have had the best grades, Sir, but I'm not totally hopeless at magic either..." glancing toward his teacher, he added quickly, "I mean, apart from Occlumency..."  
  
"It does not prevent you from learning magic, Mr. Arlan, it just makes it harder," clarified Snape, "You managed to produce a full corporal Patronus when you were only thirteen years old, which would be the mark of great power. However, apart from a few other demonstration of impressing magic, you are disappointingly average. My theory is that the Dark Lord's essence which you carry in you, stop your own magic from expressing itself fully, except in those rare situations when your magic was the strongest."  
  
Snape's gaze penetrated Seb's green eyes as he began talking again, "You're magic is growing, it's begun to fight the Dark Lord's. It's rejecting it, and the Dark Lord's magic also wants to escape, so we need to act quickly if we don't want He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named to regain all his powers."  
  
Sebastian sighed as he realized that getting rid of those powers were not an option. One cannot destroy magic, one can only manipulate it.  
  
"But, Sir, if his magic is stopping mine, I will never have the advantage when I face him. Even without all his powers, he's still stronger than me, and if I keep his powers, I won't be able to improve my skills enough to kill him..." A wave of despair hit Seb as he realized the absurdity of the situation. Snape's face didn't reveal anything.  
  
"Don't start to whine, Mr. Arlan, there is a solution !" snapped the Potions Master, "But I doubt you will like it, and besides, I don't know if you would even be able to make it work."  
  
Despair was replaced by determination.  
  
"Please, Sir," Seb said, enunciating each word slowly and clearly, "tell me about this 'solution'." 

* * *

AN : So what do you think ? 


	10. Ch 9 : Trance and Pain

AN: Here is the chapter ! Sorry it took so long... The chapter is kinda short but it seemed natural to end it there. I'm not totally satisfied with it, but I didn't want to make you wait any longer... so here it is ! (Besides, I got the feeling that Americanpie wanted me to update... yes, I can take a hint ! ;-P )

As always, thanks to all those who reviewed, 'cause you're the reason I keep writing this story !

Enjoy !

* * *

_What Am I_

**Chapter 9**

* * *

"You have to merge your energy with the Dark Lord's."

"Is that all ?" came the incredulous answer from Sebastian. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. 'He doesn't understand,' he thought.

"Yes, Mr. Arlan, that's 'all'," sneered Severus, "but don't think it is as easy as it sounds. You can't just absorb his essence and remain the same. You have to modify his essence as well as yours to make them fit to accept each other, only then will you have the possibility to make them mix together."

Seeing the dark look on the boy's face, Severus knew that Arlan had finally grasped the true concept of 'merging energies'. And the Potions Master could guess that he didn't like this notion. "If you are ready," said Severus crisply, "we shall begin immediately. Time isn't on our side, and the more the Dark Lord's energy detaches itself from yours, the harder it will become for you to manipulate it." It was true, they had to act quickly, and Severus could only hope the boy would see the emergency.

The teen nodded. "What am I supposed to do ?" This time, the voice was more determined than ever, which pleased the Potions Master immensely. Determination was what they needed right now.

"You will have to be in a trance in order to be able to properly visualize each essence." Sebastian winced, and Severus sneered in contempt as he went on, "however, I will be the one inducing your trance, as I am only too well aware of your extreme inaptitude for mind-magic." As he was spitting these words, the Potions Master realized he wasn't being fair: even though the Occlumency lessons were still as hellish as ever, the boy _had_ improved himself. Severus waited for a whine of indignation but none came.

"Just sit on the floor. If I'm not mistaken, the trance should make you see the energies even more clearly than in your vision."

Seb sat cross-legged on the stone floor, not really comfortable with Snape's choice of words. 'If I'm not mistaken' was far from reassuring. Besides, he still didn't know how he was supposed to manipulate the energies. As if he was reading his mind, Snape added, "you will know what to do."

Severus sat in front of the youth and pointed his wand directly at his student's head. He noticed that the boy didn't look very comfortable about all this.

"_Selfahena tengosad pulsaosi estimetet loungir_."

The boy's eyes naturally followed the movements of Severus' wand, and soon they closed themselves. As for the Potions Master, he was satisfied to see that his student's respiration was deep and regular.

"Well, it seems like we succeeded in putting you in a full trance, Mr. Arlan," said Severus, knowing full well that Sebastian couldn't hear him.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Sebastian's fingers twitched so discreetly that Severus almost missed it. He assumed it was just a neuronal reflex. However, he could not ignore it when the teen's whole body went rigid and started shivering ever so slightly. Severus knew that the energies would resist at first, but the boy should be able to fight them, and win. Stopping the trance too soon would not be of any help.

Snape waited as the tremors shook his student's body and small moans escaped the younger man's lips. Fingering his wand, Severus prepared himself to break the trance. When the boy started whimpering more loudly, Severus spoke the words, and the youth's body collapsed on himself, shaking more visibly now that the trance was over.

As Seb tried to calm himself, stretched on the cold hard floor, his teacher's face entered his vision. He shut his eyes tightly. 'You didn't tell me it would be so painful, you useless bastard.'

"Arlan, open your eyes and look at me... Now !" The hard voice of the Potions Master rang annoyingly into Seb's head, bringing him back to reality much faster than he would have liked. 'No,' thought Seb as he did as instructed, 'of course he wouldn't tell me. Asshole.'

"Mr. Arlan, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm waiting for your report. Much as I love seeing you take a nap on the floor, I would be even more pleased to know whether the trance worked as expected." Seb shook his head, wishing he could say aloud the flow of insults which had taken possession of his brain. Unfortunately, the memory of his iced tongue was still very much present in his mind.

"Oh, the trance worked all right, sir," growled Seb as he brought himself to a sitting position, "I saw the energies, I even felt like I could understand their nature... at least to a certain extent. But this is too hard, sir." He noticed that he was still shivering, and tried in vain to get his limbs back under control. "I tried to make the essences merge, I really tried, sir... but there are too many changes to do, and each modification is a battle with myself."

Seb looked at his teacher's blank face, hoping the man would understand that what he was asking was nearly impossible. Snape's response was to tap his fingers against his chin.

"Well, I knew you wouldn't succeed at the first try. So, Mr. Arlan," said the Potions Master, with a hint of impatience in his cold voice, "you will try again."

* * *

Sebastian was trying to catch his breath. His body was aching so fiercely that the slightest move brought unbearable pain. The mere thought of sitting up, let alone standing, was unconceivable. He had lost count of the hours he had spent there, lying on the floor, trying to tame the wild essences coursing through his body. The stones on which he was lying weren't cold anymore, they were warm and damp from his sweat.

The youth idly noticed that someone was talking to him, but he couldn't have cared less. He wouldn't do it again even though the voice was hard and demanding. He just wanted to rest.

"Come on, Arlan, surely you can do better than that. Let's try again."

It took all of Seb's will power to find the strength to answer. "No." A little noise of irritation escaped from Snape's throat, but Seb didn't know whether it was because he hadn't added the usual 'sir' or just because of his answer.

"Do I have to explain the situation again, boy ?" asked Snape in a low and menacing tone, "Maybe you didn't grasp the full importance of—"

"Oh, shut up already !" Sebastian was fed up with his teacher's exactingness. Snape didn't know how it felt to be in his place. His teacher's face was becoming paler than usual, but Sebastian was too drained to care, "I perfectly understand the situation. But the fact remains that I won't achieve anything this way. Voldemort's essence and mine are too different, I won't win this fight." He sighed, "isn't there another way ?"

"'Sir', you forgot 'sir'. I'm your professor and you will address me with the proper respect, you impertinent brat !" spat Snape in Seb's direction.

"Oh, please !" shouted the teen, his weariness forgotten and replaced by anger, "you keep telling me that time isn't on our side but YOU don't care about losing precious seconds to remind me of my place, isn't it a bit paradoxical ?!"

"You obviously NEED to be reminded of you place, boy ! I am still the one in charge here, and if I say you have to get into this damn trance a hundred times to merge those energies, you WILL DO IT !" roared Snape.

Anger and tiredness had taken control of Seb's tongue as he retorted, "Fuck off, SIR. I'm telling you this is not working, why can't you get that into your thick head, SIR !"

"Don't you talk to me this way !" Snape's hand rose to slap the boy but he caught himself in time. However, the younger man had seen the familiar move of his teacher's hand, and had already backed off a good meter away.

Severus let his hand drop, cursing under his breath. It had been going too well. The lessons, everything. Apart from the occasional shouting matches, they were almost getting on, and he had to go and ruin everything. The tacit truce of the last few days had been broken, and they were back to step one. As he looked into the green eyes of his still silent student, a feeling of déjà-vu took hold of Severus. The dangerous and slightly wild glint in the boy's eyes was back, and his whole body was tense, ready to run and escape, not unlike this day when he had apparated the Boy-Who-Lived in his manor. But this time, at least, he had caught himself before striking the teen.

Sighing, Severus conjured two armchairs out of thin air, sat in one of them and gestured for Sebastian to take the other one. Warily, the teen sat down.

"There is another way," said Severus in a calm and composed voice. He waited a few seconds, giving Sebastian some time to get back into the conversation. "This is an ancient ritual, very long and difficult, painful for the one receiving the ritual, and draining for the one casting the spells. Instead of merging the essences like we had been trying to do until now, it will separate them totally, and at the same time, it will secure the unwanted magic in a 'locked compartment'. In other words, you will hold the Dark Lord's essence 'prisoner', without it being able to influence your own magic anymore."

Sebastian shrugged, "looks perfect to me... sir." The last word was added with a hint of wariness which made Severus cringe.

"It will be very painful. From what I know, it will feel like a part of you is being ripped away."

"Well," retorted the youth, "the other method isn't exactly pleasant either."

"This is not comparable !" snorted the Potions Master, "Usually, the kind of pain you will receive should knock you unconscious, but unfortunately, the ritual in itself keeps you conscious, so you won't have any means to escape the pain."

Seb swallowed, "can I rest an hour before we try that ?"

"No," said Snape simply, "your state of tiredness will help the spell since you will be in no condition to fight it."

* * *

Sebastian followed Snape into a small, cold room, which contained only a bed, a chair and a small desk. He guessed it was some kind of guest room, which had not been used for years and maybe even centuries.

It had taken Snape five minutes to explain the ritual in it's entire complexity, and Seb had been relieved to note that he would have surprisingly little to do. Snape would cast the spells, and Sebastian would only have to concentrate on the energy which would be secured. And bear the pain.

Sebastian lied down on the bed, his heart beating madly in his chest. The look of worry painted on Snape's features wasn't helping him to relax either.

"I've already told you that the pain would be unbearable," said the Potions Master without meeting his student's gaze, "therefore, I will conjure some physical restraints, to... prevent you from hurting yourself."

The teen's throat constricted at the word 'restraints' and he asked with difficulty, "couldn't you bind me magically, sir ?"

Snape cleared his throat before replying, "The ritual is quite draining, I won't have enough magical energy to hold a binding charm at the same time."

Seb nodded, painfully aware that now wasn't the time to back off. With a flick of his wand, Snape conjured heavy iron shackles. Trying not to think about how vulnerable he would be during the ritual, Seb put his wrists and his ankles in the shackles, all the while taking deep and steady breaths. However, it didn't prevent a wave of panic from overwhelming him as the restraints clicked shut and magically adjusted themselves. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down.

Snape began the ritual immediately. After having rolled up the bottom of Seb's pants' legs, he applied a salve—which Sebastian didn't recognize—on his ankles, and did the same with Seb's wrists, forehead and navel. He, then, sat down on the chair, and cast a few protection spells on the room, in case anything went wrong.

And at last, it began. Sebastian could hear his teacher chanting some incantations, the foreign words sounding like a lullaby to the younger man's ears. At first, he felt nothing, and he wondered if Snape had done the ritual right. Then he felt a wave of cool hair wash over him. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, but he had never experienced such a thing. Seb concentrated on the green energy, visualizing it the best he could. It wasn't very hard : after a whole afternoon spent trying to manipulate it, he could say he knew the Dark Lord's essence pretty well.

The cool hair became warmer, then even warmer, until it was burning, and that's when he felt it. Snape hadn't lied. It did feel like a part of him was being ripped away. And from this moment, Sebastian was conscious of only two things : Voldemort's magic, and his pain.

* * *

Severus watched the boy struggle on the bed. He didn't have the time to feel bad about it, he needed to complete the spells, so the ritual could work. Concentrating on remembering every word was no small task, given that the ritual was an ancient one, rarely ever used nowadays. Beads of perspiration were falling into Snape's eyes, making his vision blurry.

'Later,' he thought, 'when I have finished these spells, I can wipe my forehead and think about the rest. For now, only the spells count.' Every word was taking some of Severus' energy, and he was thankful for the chair, without which he would have collapsed a long time ago.

Finally, the last word was said, and the Potions Master had to conjure his last strengths to trace some magic pattern in the air with his hands, a motion that would seal the ritual.

Exhausted, he closed his eyes briefly and let out a deep breath. Now he could only watch as the ritual did the rest. At the moment, the young wizard was pulling frantically on his restraints, not a sound escaping from his mouth. Severus had to silently admire the boy for his endurance. He had witnessed this ritual only once, and he could still remember the yells of the wizard who had endured it. The teen had managed to get a bit of the sheets he was lying on inside his mouth, and was biting on it as if his life depended on it. He was covered in sweat, not unlike Severus himself, and long locks of hair were sticking to his face.

Severus' eyes shut themselves, and unable to remain conscious any longer, the wizard fell asleep.

* * *

He was awaken by a small noise. As he open his eyes, he remembered where he was and why he was there. Noting that most of his strengths had returned, he stood up and checked on the boy lying in front of him. A long heart-shattering moan came out from the boy's throat, and Severus' stomach constricted itself.

And then it hit him. It was his son, lying there, helpless and shaking. It was his son, whose wrists and ankles were bleeding from where he had pulled too hard on the shackles. His son whose body was shaken by a huge spasms. His son who was moaning for it to stop. His son whose tears escaped from his closed eyes.

Severus tore his gaze away from this sorry sight, willing his heart rate to come back to a slower pace. But even though he could close his eyes, he couldn't shut out his son's moans of pain. Snape took the chair, put it as close as he could to the bed, and sat down. He didn't know what to do. What was he supposed to do to comfort a young man who was his son but didn't want to be ?

On an impulse, Severus put his hand on Sebastian's shaking shoulder. The teen shied away from his touch and Snape withdrew his hand sharply. He looked sadly at the young wizard in pain.

"One day, you will have to learn to trust me, you know ?" Snape's voice was soft, as if speaking loudly would cause the boy to shatter. Severus gently pushed the damp locks aside from the boy's face, and this time, the teen let him. Unconsciously, the Potions Master began to stroke the boy's hair, hoping to help him though the torture of the ritual.

Maybe it was just the ritual coming to an end, but as Severus stroked his son's hair, Sebastian's moans lessened, and then stopped totally. Finally, a golden patterned appeared in the air for a few seconds, indicating the end of the ritual. The young wizard was, at last, allowed to lose consciousness.

Severus unchained the exhausted boy and levitated him to his room. He put him carefully under the covers, and left the room.

As he walked toward his office, Severus reassured himself by telling himself that the boy wouldn't remember anything. After all, people who suffered this kind of ritual were never aware of their surroundings, and rarely remember anything except for the pain. Yes, it was all for the best. Unfortunately, Severus was conscious that a small part of him, the part that wanted him to be a father, was aching.

* * *

AN: There, all done ! Review please :-)


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